About to Blink
by Drogna
Summary: Tony has defeated Aldrich Killian, but his mental health is worse than ever. The Avengers attempt to pick up the pieces, but Clint's mission wasn't a walk in the park either and he ends up needing some help himself.
1. Chapter 1

About to Blink

AN: This first chapter is set during the events of Iron Man 3. Warning for Clint swearing at Tony and **spoilers** for Iron Man 3.  
AN2: This is very much not what I am supposed to be spending my writing time on, but Clint wasn't done with being whumped, Tony was begging me to deal with his angst, and Cap wanted to prove that he's getting the hang of the 21st Century. I really want to tackle what the other Avengers are doing during IM3, Thor2 & CA:TWS, so this is my first go at that continuity. This story only goes up to Thor2.

AN3: Apologies for the short first chapter, but it needs to stand alone I think.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers.

* * *

The phone hit the ground and the screen smashed. He really wished he'd thrown it harder to be honest.

"Bill me," said Tony Stark and climbed into his car.

He had no idea why reporters had to be such assholes. They were always shoving smart phones in his face and trying to get some kind of reaction out of him that they could record. He hated the fact that they'd been waiting for him outside the hospital that his injured friend was currently lying in, but he'd fully expected it. He pressed his foot down on the accelerator and was gone in less than a minute.

He was in the car for a full five minutes before his own cell phone rang. The caller display read "number withheld" which was a surprisingly common occurrence now that he had friends in top secret organisations. Only a handful of people actually had his personal cell phone number, and none of them normally appeared without caller ID. He was pretty sure he knew the organisation that was calling, it was just which of his spy friends had got to a phone first.

"Jarvis, put it on speaker," he said with a fair amount of resignation.

"What the hell were you thinking? "My name's Tony Stark and I'm not afraid of you". Fucking hell, Tony. Do you have an actual death wish?" asked a terse but very familiar voice. The line was crackly and Tony wondered where he was calling from – somewhere far away and with bad communication links.

"Legolas! It's so nice to hear from you. I'm fine thank you, apart from the obvious friend being blown up by terrorists thing…" Tony was talking fast because otherwise Clint would get a few more words out and then he'd be in trouble.

"Tony, would you just shut up and take this seriously for a second. You threatened a terrorist," said Clint. "Damn it, I'm currently out of the country and so's Natasha. Bruce isn't exactly the protection detail type, Thor's back in Asgard and Cap's on assignment. You could not have picked a worse time. I won't be able to get back for at least a few days." Clint actually sounded concerned.

"I didn't pick it, they did," replied Tony, pretty annoyed now.

"I'm sorry about Happy, but I think you're in over your head with this one," said Clint. "Even Iron Man can't take on an entire terrorist organisation on his own."

"If I didn't think I could handle this then I wouldn't have made the threat," said Tony.

"You may think you can handle it, but this is Ten Rings that you're messing with. They are evil sons of bitches, Stark, and they've got a lot of ways of getting to someone, ways that your armour won't protect you from."

"You have so little faith in my abilities," replied Tony. "I've got a plan. There's something weird going on here and I'm going to get to the bottom of it."

"I've experienced your plans, Tony," said Clint. "I'm going to arrange SHIELD protection for you."

"What?" said Tony. "No. Do not do that. I need them to think I'm on my own."

"You are on your own, and you're the one who lectured me on doing stuff like this by myself. Steve is going to be pissed. At least get back to New York, the security system in the Tower is better than the one in the house in Malibu."

Tony suspected that it was just that Clint had helped to set up the New York system so he trusted it more than the one in Malibu.

"No, I'll put the house into lockdown and everything will be fine. Really, Hawkeye, I mean it. I honestly do know what I'm doing and I will be being very careful," said Tony.

"I wish I believed you, but there isn't much I can do from here. And if you won't accept SHIELD protection, then I hope Rhodey's around to bail you out when it all goes south. I'll be there as soon as this mission's done."

The phone line went dead as Clint hung up on him. Sometimes having superhero friends was a real problem.

Almost as soon as Hawkeye had hung up, the phone began to ring again. Once again no number was shown on the caller ID. This would be the other one.

"On speaker, Jarvis," said Tony with a sigh.

"I've decided that you just died? That was the best line that you could come up with, Stark?" asked a female voice. "If you're going to give your address to the world then I'd have expected you to manage to do it with a bit more style. The idiocy that you displayed was totally predictable however."

"Yeah, yeah, Widow. I've just had your boyfriend on the line saying all the same stuff that you're about to say."

"Good, then he's already arranged SHIELD protection for you," said Natasha Romanoff, apparently ignoring the crack about Hawkeye being her boyfriend.

"No! What is it with you two? I'm Iron Man. I don't need the protection of SHIELD. I mean where were you guys when I was actually being captured by the Ten Rings?"

"Drafting a plan to break you out, but you beat us to it," said Natasha. "Clint was just a little bit annoyed by that; R and D had made him some new desert gear that he was longing for an excuse to test drive."

"Awesome. Yeah, I should totally have waited for you to come get me, just so that Hawkguy could test out his latest toys… Wait, what? Did you say you were about to rescue me from the terrorists when I broke myself out? You and Clint?"

"What? You think SHIELD would let one of the world's smartest arms dealers be held by terrorists forever? Director Fury hunted you down as a matter of priority. Unfortunately it's hard to find people when they're hidden in caves in the desert. This wasn't what I called to talk about," said Natasha. "Take the offer of the SHIELD protection detail, Tony."

"No, but thanks for thinking of me. I'm going to put the house in lockdown and everything will work out fine," said Tony.

"Do you live in that delusion or just rent it for the holidays?"

"Oh, wow, sarcasm from the Black Widow. It's come to this. Thanks for the call, Natasha. Bye, Natasha."

He dropped the call, which he knew would piss off the spy immensely and he took a perverse joy in that.

If he'd had any inkling of what he had now got himself into then he might have taken the two phone calls that he'd just received a little more seriously. Hindsight is always twenty twenty though. He spent the next several days simply trying to stay alive, so he honestly didn't get much time to mull things over until well after that.

* * *

Reviews make me write faster. Honest.


	2. Chapter 2

About to Blink

AN: Thank you so much for your reviews and follows.

* * *

Clint Barton got back to his apartment in the Tower a day later than he really wanted and it was already late evening. He'd been embedded in a terrorist cell for the last two weeks and in no position to extricate himself to deal with Tony's stupidity. He'd managed to get enough down time to put in a call to SHIELD and his contact there told him that Tony's mansion in Malibu was toast and Tony himself was presumed dead. He hadn't believed for a minute that Tony was really dead, a feeling which was strengthened when he'd heard that no body had been found. As soon as he'd completed his mission, he'd requested an update and found his gut feelings vindicated. Tony was alive, although had apparently had quite an adventure.

As soon as his feet had hit US soil, he'd been desperate to get back to New York and Avengers Tower. His debrief had been long and detailed, because people had died on the mission and he had to account for his decisions. So here he was, walking into the Tower a day later than he could have been, but at least he'd made it. He felt worn out and his muscles ached. He was ignoring the slight pain of his latest injury, where his arm had been nicked by a passing bullet. It wasn't bad, just annoying. He dumped his gear in his apartment and took the elevator up to the Common Room.

He'd already questioned Jarvis and discovered that Bruce and Tony were currently in residence, but he hadn't probed further and actually asked for their specific locations. He suspected that Tony in particular would need his space. Clint had almost no idea what he was going to say to Tony, or even why he felt he should be here. Tony could clearly take care of himself or he wouldn't still be alive now. Clint just felt that he was needed and, as always, he had more leave owed to him than he could ever take before he got called in for another game of hunt the bad guys, so here he was.

The Common Room was quiet, but it still felt like home to Clint, or at least the closest thing that he'd ever had. He'd spent a lot of time here after Loki had used him as a weapon against his friends and his own planet. Mostly he'd just slept or read books. Sometimes he'd just spent hours looking out across the city, imagining what it must be like to lead a normal life, to get up in the morning and go to work. Or maybe just to not have had his mind occupied by a god intent on the destruction of New York. It had been a difficult time, but he'd pulled through with a fair amount of help from the other Avengers and Tony Stark in particular.

At first nothing had surprised him as much as Tony's clear protective streak, but as he'd got to know the billionaire it had all fallen into place. Tony was really two people, maybe more some days, but basically there was Public Tony and Private Tony. Most people never got to see Private Tony, but he was the one who'd invited Clint to stay at the Tower and gifted him the lease on his apartment there. It was Private Tony who had persuaded Bruce to stay, and Steve to move in because the Avengers needed to be together, and they were falling apart on their own. It had been Private Tony that had hacked into Clint's medical files and then decided that he couldn't just let him slide into painful memories and self-recrimination.

Public Tony might drive fast cars and wear designer sunglasses, but behind that external face was a man trying to atone for a myriad of sins. He was a good man who wanted to make up for his past by helping others and, yes, he was still flamboyant and annoying, but he was also caring and loyal. Once you were part of Tony's inner circle, you were his friend for life. You opened yourself up to a lot of weirdness - like late night sessions trying to decide which explosives made the most aesthetically pleasing fireball for Iron Man's newest rockets, coherent conversations with an AI about the best brand of peanut butter on the market, random summonings to drop everything and test out the latest video game that Tony needed a second player for - but it made life interesting. Clint had kind of missed it whilst he'd been away.

The problem was that Public Tony liked to encroach on Private Tony and this meant that Private Tony was hidden a lot of the time. It also meant that Tony was _very_ good at hiding what was really going on in his head. In fact, following the battle of New York, Clint was fairly certain that Tony had been hiding a case of PTSD almost as serious as his own. He'd watched Tony failing to sleep and he'd even been witness to his nightmares when he did sleep. He should have said something, but he had been too wrapped up in his own stuff.

Steve and Thor probably hadn't noticed, but Clint, Natasha and Bruce were supposed to be trained to pick it up. But they'd all been so busy dealing with Clint's Loki-induced illness that none of them had really looked at Tony. They'd let Tony get away with hiding it and none of them had called him on it. Clint was kicking himself about this now, because this latest incident would only have worsened it. He should have made him seek help, before he decided to threaten a terrorist, because Clint recognised that as the act of someone who needed to be seen to be being brave. It had all been about Tony being the Iron Man, the one who rescued people and didn't need rescuing himself.

Clint shook his head and heard the elevator spring to life behind him. He moved away from the window and into the kitchen area, turning on the coffee machine as he did so. Then he paused, and headed for the bar. He got out Tony's good brandy and three glasses.

"Jarvis, that's Tony and Bruce in the elevator, right?" he asked, just to be sure.

"Yes, Agent Barton," said Jarvis.

Clint gave a small nod of thanks to the AI. He was never sure if politeness mattered to Jarvis, but he'd started thinking of him as a person at some point during his residence at the Tower. He probably owed his life to Jarvis, or at least the quality of life that he now enjoyed, and that was kind of important to him. It didn't cost him anything to say thank you once in a while to the disembodied voice, and he really didn't care what anyone else thought about that.

He poured the drinks. The elevator reached his floor and the doors pulled back to reveal Tony arguing with Bruce. Tony was dressed in one of his favourite Led Zeppelin t-shirts, the one that had weird angel on the front.

"Look, I'm fed up with it. I don't want to be stuck with the thing in my chest for the rest of my life," said Tony and then gave Bruce a look which was clearly supposed to silence him, but even Clint knew that it was just postponing the inevitable.

"Hawkeye!" shouted Tony, with rather over-done enthusiasm. He was halfway to the bar before his sharp eyes noticed the bandage on Clint's arm. "You're injured. What happened?"

"It's nothing, a bullet crease. I didn't dodge quickly enough," said Clint and poured brandy into the glasses. "Nothing to what you've been up to anyway. Fucking hell, Tony." He set the bottle down with slightly more force than necessary.

"Yeah, well, stuff happens when you're Iron Man," said Tony.

"If you tell terrorists where you live, it definitely does…" said Bruce, clearly continuing an earlier conversation.

"Do you think we could all refrain from saying "I told you so"?" asked Tony. "Maybe just this once."

"But I do so love it when I get to say that," said Clint, with the tiniest hint of a grin.

"Hello pot, I've got a black kettle right here," said Bruce, looking between the two men.

"Yeah, yeah. Get over here and drink the damn brandy," said Clint. "Then we can start the post-mortem on the events of the last week."

Tony rolled his eyes. "You realise that this is my brandy."

"You left it in the Common Room, it's fair game," replied Clint.

"This is for emergencies. Like when people have non-responsive flashbacks after just moving in and scare Captain America," said Tony.

"Tony!" said Bruce, a little shocked by his friend's blunt phrasing.

"It's okay," said Clint. "I'm all better now, remember? And I really appreciated the brandy at the time. I think the past couple of weeks might be worthy of another go at it."

Tony picked up his glass and toasted Clint. "At least you picked the good stuff." Clint raised his own glass in reply. "So, come on then. Shout at me."

"Honestly, what would be the point? You'll just do exactly the same thing next time," said Clint. "I offered you SHIELD protection, and you refused it."

"I know, and I shouldn't have. Even if I didn't need it, Pepper did. I thought I could protect us both and I was wrong. But Rhodey and I dealt with it and we're all still here to tell the tale," said Tony, taking a long drink from his glass. He wandered over to one of the large leather couches and took a seat, spreading his arms out across the back.

Bruce picked up his own glass, taking the chance to exchange a knowing look with Clint and moved over to join Tony, choosing one of the recliners. Clint gave a sigh and stiffly followed Bruce. He was tired and felt like he just wanted to sleep for a week. He let out a long sigh.

"Just don't do it again," said Clint.

Tony held up his hands in defeat and took another drink. "I was expecting at least a little shouting."

"I'm tired. I've got no shouting in me," said Clint. "And I'm still worried about you, Tony."

"Colonel Rhodes mentioned an anxiety attack," said Bruce, somewhat out of the blue.

"Oh did he? Well he had no right to tell anyone about that," said Tony, turning to fix Bruce with an annoyed look that held a tiny bit of betrayal in it too.

"He was worried about you," said Bruce.

"Well none of you need to be worried. I'm fine," said Tony.

"You're definitely not fine," said Clint, sipping his own brandy.

"Okay, so maybe I'm not fine, but really none of us were after New York," said Tony. "You got the worst of it, but there was a reason why I invited everyone to live in the Tower."

"And you helped all of us, me especially," said Clint. "But you forgot about yourself."

Tony laughed. "You clearly don't know me as well as I thought you did. I rarely think about anyone except myself."

"That might have been true at one point, but it hasn't been since you built the Iron Man suit," said Clint.

"He's right," said Bruce. "You invited a man who might turn into a giant green rage monster to live in your building. That's not the act of a selfish man."

"I just did that to annoy SHIELD," said Tony.

Bruce didn't look like he believed that for a second.

"And what about the rest of us?" asked Clint.

"We can't have an Avengers if our sniper is off his game," said Tony.

"There are half a dozen agents who could be the Avenger's sharp shooter. Fury would have just assigned you someone else," said Clint.

"Who wouldn't have been half as good," said Tony. "You know that no one else can make the shots that you do."

"Tony, you actually told me that wasn't why you were doing this," said Bruce. "You can't go back on it now."

Tony just rolled his eyes at that.

"Anyway, it's not that far-fetched to think that maybe you spent more time looking after us than you did yourself," said Clint. "It's about time that we did something about that."

"Well, I'm going to have some enforced downtime. I destroyed all my armour," said Tony.

"I heard," said Clint. "And I know that Pepper's currently in the isolation ward of the Tower's infirmary, whilst she recovers from the Extremis."

"She'll be fine. I made sure of that," said Tony. He suddenly stopped making eye contact with Clint, pulling himself into a more conventional and incidentally closed up sitting position. Despite that, Clint could see the tears that Tony was desperately trying not to shed. The billionaire rubbed at his eyes. "She'll be fine."

Bruce nodded in confirmation. "Yeah, she will be. I checked her blood work myself."

Clint shook his head. This wasn't exactly the reaction that he'd been going for, but maybe it was better than nothing. He took a gulp of the very expensive brandy that he'd barely touched so far.

"Tony," said Clint. "Let us help. I want to help. I owe you, Pepper and the other Avengers my life and my sanity. Let me help."

Tony set his own glass of brandy down on the table beside his friend. He met Clint's eyes. "Rhodey's keeping watch downstairs. I can't leave her alone for more than a couple of hours. I'm so damn scared that I'm going to lose her. I know she'll be fine and there isn't anyone else out there to hurt her now, but I'm Iron Man and I can't stop being Iron Man. Someone else will come and maybe I won't be here to stop them."

"I feel the same way about Betty," said Bruce. "But none of us are on our own anymore."

"So we won't let anything happen to you or Pepper," said Clint. "Next time, take the SHIELD protection, it'll make all of us feel better, and right now you can let us help out on Pepper-watch so that you can get some sleep. You know she'll be in good hands."

"And you need to talk to a proper therapist," said Bruce, "because I know you never have."

"I know," said Tony. "I can't keep Pepper under guard forever. I have to get over this."

"In the morning, we'll go through some names. In the meantime, I'll relieve Rhodey," said Bruce. "You two look like you could do with the downtime."

Clint sent the Physicist an extremely grateful look.

"Thanks, Bruce. Come on, Tony," said Clint. "I'll walk you to your floor and then go get some rest myself."

Tony blinked like a deer caught in headlights and then shrugged. "Okay, I might be able to cope with the Hulk watching Pepper. She's only in the infirmary for a couple more days. Then maybe we can get things back to their normal weird selves around here."

"Sounds good to me," said Clint. It was good to be home, whatever the circumstances.

* * *

Pepper was probably going to strangle Tony when she saw him next. She knew that he was a needy, emotionally stunted idiot, that for some inexplicable reason she had fallen in love with, but she was fine and could look after herself. She did not need a guard twenty-four hours a day. She was in the Infirmary in one of the most secure buildings in New York. There was no way that anyone was going to get in to even say "hi" without Jarvis knowing about it, and if Jarvis knew about it, then so did Tony.

She'd noted the earlier presence of Doctor Banner and then a lengthy visit from Tony himself, followed by a seamless transition to her current companion. She knew when she was being guarded. The fact that Clint had been sitting with her all afternoon, reading a book about compound bows, whilst trying to pretend that he was just there to keep her company, wasn't terribly subtle. It made her very aware that Tony was on super high alert when it came to her safety and that worried her.

She was also more than a little bored. She was feeling better but still tired and not entirely pain free from the process of purging the Extremis from her body. She wasn't allowed her laptop yet, because Tony knew that the first thing she'd want to do was check in with work and apparently she was supposed to be resting. Even her secretary had been forbidden from visiting. So working was out of the question and all Tony would let her have was a StarkPad which he'd disabled the Wi-Fi on. Having a boyfriend who was smarter than her could be a real pain. She couldn't ever remember having this much time to read since she'd joined Stark Industries and whilst it was good to catch up on her reading, she didn't want to do it all day for the next two days.

"How was your mission?" she asked, more to make conversation and pass the time than anything else.

"Mostly routine, until I ended up waist deep in a swamp with the bad guys chasing me," said Clint, barely looking up.

"What were you doing? Or is that one of those things that you'd have to shoot me for after you told me?" asked Pepper.

Clint shrugged, and Pepper noticed he winced a little at the movement. "I'd love to be able to tell you all about it, but Fury would probably shoot _me_." He put the book down. "You're bored, aren't you? I know this stage in recovery pretty well. Too ill to be allowed out, but well enough to want more than just time to sleep and eat."

"Bruce tells me that it's just a couple more days," said Pepper, with a little bit of a sigh at the end. "But, honestly, I've had enough of reading. I'm not used to having so much time on my hands. I'm used to running a company and being busy all the time solving problems. I want something more interactive than watching a movie, but I'm useless at computer games."

"How do you feel about board games?"

"Board games? I played Tony at chess once. I can't remember why either of us thought it was a good idea. He beat me in five moves."

"I was thinking something that didn't need as much brainpower," replied Clint. "I bet you'd kick ass at Monopoly."

Pepper was baffled for a moment. "SHIELD agents play Monopoly?"

"Well, not often, but if there's nothing better to do… We could go with Snakes and Ladders instead? Or Scrabble? Or jigsaw puzzles?"

"Monopoly will do fine," said Pepper.

"I'll be back in a couple of minutes," said Clint. He put his book down on his chair and left the room. A few moments later he returned with a familiar looking box. "They've got a board games cupboard down the hall. Jarvis mentioned it last time I ended up in here, but then they let me out before I needed any of them. Just in case though, never play Natasha at Scrabble. She doesn't think it's a proper game unless it involves money and she's memorised the entire Scrabble dictionary."

Clint put the box down on the table that went across Pepper's bed, and set up the board, handing her the paper fake money.

"I don't think I've played this since I was a kid," said Pepper. "I've probably forgotten a few of the rules."

"It's okay. I know them off by heart," said Clint.

Pepper raised an eyebrow.

"Natasha and I once had this stakeout… Let's just say we played a lot of board games and leave it at that. I lost a lot of money that night."

Pepper then spent an enjoyable couple of hours trying to best Clint at Monopoly. She had a nice portfolio of property going and was considering the best way to bankrupt Clint, when Tony wandered in.

"Oh my god," said Tony. "Did I just step back in time? We have computer games that you could play."

"I didn't want to play any of them," said Pepper, already gearing up for the argument that she knew was about to happen.

"Your girlfriend is kicking my butt, so she may have lied to me about her previous Monopoly experience," said Clint.

"Well, she does run a multi-million dollar company for a living. I think you could say she has transferrable skills," said Tony, with a touch of pride.

Pepper saw Clint look between her clearly annoyed expression and Tony's blissful ignorance, and apparently decided that it was time to leave.

"Okay, I am done here for the day, before I get taken for every penny," said the archer, rising from his seat. "I'm going to go crash until dinner, my body clock's still broken and trying to tell me it's night time."

Pepper watched him and noted that he was a fraction slower at getting up than he had been earlier. He did look tired.

"Thanks for the company, Clint," she said, suddenly more appreciative of the fact that he'd sat in an uncomfortable seat for the last couple of hours so that they could play a board game.

He gave her an almost embarrassed nod of acknowledgement of her thanks as he left.

"Is he okay?" she asked, watching him walk away past the window of her room.

"I think he had a tough mission," said Tony. "He'll talk about it if he can and if he wants to. How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, and don't think I haven't noticed that someone's been with me every minute since we got back," said Pepper. "Don't you think you're overreacting just a little?"

"Overreacting to my girlfriend being kidnapped by a madman? Nope, don't think so. In fact, no, definitely not," said Tony, with a firm shake of the head. "Actually this may be the sanest reaction I've ever had. You're my world, Pepper. You're the one thing that I couldn't live without. I love you and I'm just doing my best to keep you safe."

"We're in one of the highest security buildings on the planet, Tony. I think I'm safe," replied Pepper. "Look, I need space if I'm going to process everything that's happened, and being watched my every waking hour by your super-friends isn't really helping."

Tony's expression was one that she recognised. She knew that he was close to breaking point and, to be honest, so was she. She didn't want either of them to be here, but this wasn't a situation of their making. Aldrich Killian was the one to blame.

"I can't, okay, I just can't," said Tony, his voice and eyes full of emotion. "I can barely leave you with an Avenger. I'm not going to be able to leave you on your own… for a while."

Pepper raised her eyebrows. "And how long is "a while"?"

"You know how messed up I am, honey. Honestly, it could be months, but I'm working on it, I promise and Bruce has suggested a couple of names of people that I can talk to."

"Good," said Pepper. "But you have to start paying attention to the fact that there were two of us affected by this. I need to find a way to deal with this on my own and I don't need you trying to smother me. I can't sleep. The smallest stuff reminds me of being kidnapped… And I can't just instantly forget it and go back to work and neither can you."

"So what do we do?" asked Tony.

"I don't know," said Pepper. "We find a way. We have to, because I love you and I know that you love me."

Tony finally took the last couple of steps to Pepper's bedside and enveloped her in a hug. Pepper could feel tears in her eyes and then on her cheeks. She sniffed them back and hugged Tony for all she was worth.

"Great, at least we have Post Traumatic Stress as a common interest now," said Tony.

Pepper gave a small tear choked laugh at this remark. "Yeah, and Bruce gave me a list of names too. SHIELD approved. Should we be thinking about couples counselling? Or do we want to make sure that we pick different people?"

"I'm going to go out on a limb and say that whoever I go with, you should pick someone different, if only for the sanity of the people concerned," said Tony. "I mean, I can really talk…"

"I know," said Pepper, scooting over to make room for Tony to sit next to her on the bed. Bruce probably wouldn't approve but she didn't care. Tony shifted his grip and it turned into less of a desperate hold and more into a sideways arm around her shoulders as he hopped up on the bed.

"And you have a way with people," added Pepper.

"Yes, my natural charisma is just amazing. Especially when it comes to dealing with medical professionals." Tony paused. "You know I'm going to have to build a new suit, right?"

Pepper shrugged, taking a deep breath. "You're Iron Man. I don't think I can stop you being who you are."

"You do know you're amazing?" asked Tony, in total seriousness as far as she could tell.

"My boyfriend keeps telling me that," she replied, and leaned her head on his shoulder. "It would just be nice to not have to be so amazing sometimes."

"I know, hon, and I'm working on it. I really am," replied Tony, and she knew he meant it.


	3. Chapter 3

About to Blink

AN: Thanks to all my reviewers and followers. I realised that I didn't say that this is following on from my other Avengers fic "Assembled We Are Strong", although I'm trying to write it so you don't have to read that to be able to read this.

* * *

It took Tony two days to build a new Iron Man suit, which he thought was pretty good from a standing start. Admittedly he had all the plans, plus a few spare parts from other suits, and it was just a matter of fabricating the remaining parts, which he could manage pretty easily. He'd need to fix up Rhodey's suit too but that shouldn't be too hard. The Air Force colonel had been recalled to Washington and was expected to report back the following day, so probably wouldn't have time to wait around for the repairs. He was currently on Pepper-watch, for which Tony was exceedingly grateful. He'd needed some time to work on his armour, and he couldn't ask Bruce and Clint to spend all their time with Pepper.

The only thing that remained to do on the armour was the paint job, which Jarvis was currently taking care of. He'd just sat down to drink the cold cup of coffee that he'd poured himself about an hour ago when there was a knock on the door frame. As always the door was open, and there was only one person who ever felt the need to knock before he entered the lab.

"I'm told that you're fine and that I didn't need to rush back to New York," said a familiar and yet slightly annoying voice.

Tony's head whipped around, and he nearly spilt the coffee that he'd been drinking. He was met by the sight of Steve Rogers in jeans and a t-shirt, over which was a stylishly retro leather jacket. He was carrying his shield.

"Whoever told you that is entirely correct. It's still good to see you," said Tony, putting the cup down on the bench. "I wasn't expecting you to get back here for another couple of months."

Steve shrugged. "I'm between missions. I wish I could have been back sooner…"

"I'm honestly surprised that I didn't get a call from you. Birdbrain and Red Sonja both took time out from their top secret spy stuff to shout at me," said Tony.

"I probably would have done too, but there aren't many telephones where I was, and by the time I heard what was going on, it was too late for me to do anything," said Steve. "How's Pepper?"

"She'll be fine. She's tough and amazingly resilient to madmen kidnapping her and testing their super-weapons on her. She's doing better than me, I think. She'll be pleased to see you back safe," said Tony. He gave Steve a look. "I'm waiting for the lecture. The one about not going it alone and having a plan."

"You remember telling Clint to get his ass back to the Tower when he went out to hunt Viper on his own, and to not be such damn fool?"

"Yeah, and I am aware of the irony."

"Then I don't really need to say it again, do I?"

"No, I guess you don't. No one seems to want to shout at me about this now that it's over. I actually really kind of want someone to," said Tony, surprising himself at the confession.

"I think we all understand that you've been through a lot and it's not even a year since Loki. Lesser men would be wrecks," said Steve.

"How do you know that I'm not? I can't sleep, I've got a twenty-four hour guard on my girlfriend because I can't bear to think that she might be taken from me again and I haven't left the Tower in three days. That's not normal. That's not even normal for me."

Steve took a couple of steps into the lab and grabbed the nearest stool. He sat down wearily. "None of us sleep well after New York. All we can do is stand together. You're the one who brought us back together and you were right, we needed it. We work well as a team, when we give it a chance. We also seem to be pretty good at putting each other back together when we've fallen apart. Clint needed us the most last time around. This time it's your turn."

"Everything's so black and white to you," said Tony. "So simple."

"Not always, but this time I think it's pretty obvious that you need us, and we're here. I know that Clint pulled a lot of strings to get back as quickly as he did, and Natasha got a message out that she'll be home as soon as she can be, but is kind of busy for a few more days," said Steve. "Apparently Thor's out restoring order to the other seven of the Nine Realms, and Fury didn't seem to know when he'd be back on Earth. If I could have got a message to him, then I'd definitely have told him to head back here."

"He'd be a little late," said Tony.

"We're all a bit late, and I'm fairly sure we all feel bad about that," said Steve, looking down at his hands. "If I could have been here to stop Pepper from being hurt or you, you know that I would have been."

"But that's just it, Clint and Natasha asked me if I wanted SHIELD protection and I turned it down. I could have had help and I turned it down," said Tony. "I thought I could handle it, and because I misjudged the situation, because I was wrong, Pepper got hurt."

"Pepper got hurt because Aldrich Killian wanted power and had an agenda. That wasn't down to you, Tony."

"Actually, it may have been. You see there was this New Year's Eve party, about, oh, a hundred years ago that I attended and he was there too. I was drunk, and he was young and probably naïve. It was a bad combination. I told him to get lost. I was my usual rude, obnoxious self and maybe that set him on a course to this. I don't know, maybe he was always going to become an evil super-villain, but then again, maybe this whole thing is my fault from start to finish."

Tony knew that he sounded pitiful, and he had no idea why he was talking to Steve about this. It was normally Bruce that got stuff like this out of him, but this time Steve just seemed to understand and he had no idea why. Like the super-soldier had ever done anything to feel guilty over.

"But it's done with. You close the book and move on. You can't change the outcome of your actions. Believe me, I know. I can't change that my best friend fell to his death from a train during a fight against Hydra, or that I was frozen in ice for 70 years. We all have our ghosts."

Tony frowned, kicking himself for failing to remember that Captain America had always had sidekick in the propaganda. A man called Bucky Barnes. That man had actually been Steve's best friend, from his childhood all the way through to the Howling Commandos. Maybe Captain America did have something to feel guilty about, even if it was unjustly.

"Look, for now, just make the most of having us home. We'll probably all get called out on a mission soon enough," said Steve, shrugging out of his jacket and putting it over his arm. "Bruce is cooking dinner in an hour. We've probably got enough members that we can call it a team dinner, so don't be late."

"Okay, I'll finish this and then I'll be up," said Tony. Pepper was due out of the Infirmary the following day and he wanted to make sure he went to bed at a reasonable time so that he could be there in the morning to escort her to the penthouse. She wouldn't like it, and he'd hate himself for doing it, but really his brain was giving him little choice in the compulsion that it was presenting him with.

"Where's Hawkeye?" asked Steve.

"Do you really need to ask that question?" replied Tony.

"The roof? So his last mission wasn't great either then?"

"And the man in the red, white and blue spandex wins the prize," said Tony. "As usual he's not talking about it, but I doubt whatever he was up to was much fun. He's been down here helping me with the new suit when he's not up there, but he's sleeping in his own bed. So he's still nowhere near as bad as he was post Loki."

Steve nodded. "I'll go see him."

Steve was about to leave the lab when Jarvis interrupted their conversation.

"Sir, I have a call from Director Fury," said the AI.

"Put him through," said Tony, with some reluctance.

"Stark, we've got a problem. Some guy calling himself Whirlwind is busy tearing up Manhattan."

"Just as well that I've got Captain America here then," said Tony.

"Rogers is with you?" asked Fury.

"I just got back," said Steve.

"You're supposed to be in DC," said Fury.

"I had some downtime, and I believe I'm allowed to do what I like with my time off," replied Steve. "Stark needed my help."

"It's a little late for that," replied Fury.

"So I hear," said Steve, with a glance at Tony. "But I'll be here for a few days, unless you're recalling me."

"I'm not, but if you could help out with this Whirlwind problem then I may see my way clear to keeping you off the duty roster for a couple of weeks," said Fury. "Barring events that only Captain American can deal with."

"Of course, Director," said Steve, being far more agreeable than Tony would have been in the same circumstances.

"Come on then, tell us about this Whirlwind guy," said Tony, snapping his fingers impatiently. "Jarvis, let Clint and Bruce know we've got something local that needs our attention."

"We need an address," said Steve, grabbing his suit from a backpack that Tony hadn't even noticed that he'd brought with him.

Fury provided a current position for this new threat and sent them footage of the rampage that Whirlwind was now on. Apparently Whirlwind was a mutant with some kind of super speed power paired with rotation. He enjoyed using his body as a human battering ram and could also make use of air blast attacks. He was currently ripping a swathe of destruction through Manhattan, much of which had only recently been repaired following Loki's attack.

"Jarvis, the new armour? Is it ready for a test flight?"

"Nowhere near, sir," replied the AI.

"Good, get it ready to be deployed," said Tony, ignoring his overcautious computer.

"Sir, I really do advise against it," said Jarvis.

"Don't care," said Tony. "Skip the go-faster-stripes on the paintwork. We don't have all day here."

Clint's voice was patched through by Jarvis. "What's going on?"

"We're up," said Tony. "We've got a mutant called Whirlwind trying to remodel Manhattan."

"I'll suit up," said Clint.

"And we've got an unexpected guest star," said Tony. "Cap's dropped in for afternoon tea and villain bashing."

"Nice, that should make this all go a lot faster. How's the armour doing? Or are you sitting this one out?" asked Clint.

"It's ready for a test run, so we might as well put it through its paces up against this loser," said Tony, nonchalantly. He was quietly freaking out at the possibility of going out to battle even a single bad guy, but no one else needed to know that.

"That sounds like a really bad idea," said Clint. "I bet you haven't even calibrated the targeting sensors yet."

"I'll work on it as we go. This is me. It'll be fine," replied Tony.

"Sure it will," said Clint. "Is Bruce joining us?"

"Don't know," replied Tony. "He's aware of the situation. Might not be a great idea to let the hulk loose in New York again, but I'll let him decide."

"The Hulk seems a lot more together lately. It'll probably be okay. I'll see you downstairs."

Tony was pretty certain that if Clint had really believed Tony was in any danger, he'd have told him not to go in more emphatic terms. Generally Clint was prone to being overly protective, but trusted Tony enough these days to believe him when he said things would be okay.

Steve was giving Tony a worried look at the exchange.

"What's wrong with your suit?"

"It's not quite finished. Like I just got through telling Hawkeye, it'll be fine," replied Tony.

"What was wrong with your other one?"

"Er, I guess you didn't hear. I sort of blew up all my armour. It was a gesture, to show Pepper that I was serious about being, er, serious, kind of," said Tony.

Steve was looking decidedly perplexed. Then he shrugged. "I'll meet you all downstairs." Clearly he'd got used to Tony's strange behaviour.

"Jarvis, put me through to Bruce. Are you joining us?" asked Tony.

"Unless you really need me, I think I'll give this one a miss," said Bruce. "New York doesn't need more Hulk damage. Obviously, if things get out of hand, I'll, uh, suit up and be along as fast as the Hulk can jump."

"You're going to miss all the fun. Cap's back," said Tony.

"To deal with this?"

"Nah, he just happened to be here when Fury called," said Tony. He made some final adjustments to the armour programming as he was talking. He pressed the execute button and the new commands were saved to the program. "Jarvis, whenever you're ready. Hit me."

Tony stood with his arms out and the armour leapt to life, folding around him.

"I'll have dinner waiting when you get back," said Bruce.

"I shall look forwards to that," said Tony and took off out of the doors that Jarvis was opening for him into the grey Manhattan sky. He zipped downwards to where he could already see Steve and Clint. Steve had straddled his bike. It was revved, ready to go and Clint was hopping on as his pillion passenger.

"Really? You're going to ride to the battle on that?"

"It's awesome, Stark," said Clint. "I'd love one of these."

"It's so old. But if you really like it, maybe I'll buy you one for your birthday, Cupid," said Tony, through the suit radio.

"Only the Hulk gets to call me that, tin man," said Clint, with emphasis on one of Tony's least favourite nicknames. The archer pulled on a black helmet, which Tony had seen him wear when he took his own bike out.

"Can we just go deal with the bad guy?" asked Steve, with a look up at Tony.

"I'd forgotten how much of a killjoy you are," said Tony, angling himself in the direction of Whirlwind and his rampage. "Race you." Iron Man was zooming off in a flash.

"Damn it, Stark," said Steve, releasing the clutch and accelerating onto the New York streets in an attempt to keep up with the red blur that was Iron Man.

Hawkeye had one hand on the harness that held Steve's shield in place and his bow firmly clasped in the other. He leaned into the turns like a pro, and, of course, Tony was well aware that his comrades-in-arms knew how to ride a bike. Tony also knew that they had no chance of keeping up, especially with all the traffic of a typical day in the city. He'd make it first easily and now that he was moving, he could feel the apprehension and fear lessening. It was usually afterwards that things came back to disrupt his sleep, and he expected this to be no different.

He looked down to see what had to be Whirlwind zipping through one of the main shopping streets. There was a pink and green blur that spun down the street like a spinning top. Occasionally it resolved itself into a tallish man wearing green combat pants and a bright green Kevlar vest. People were being flung right and left as they got caught up in his mini-tornado. This was actually worse than Tony had thought it would be. He'd imagined a fair amount of property damage, but it looked as if it was people that were bearing the brunt of this attack. It wasn't necessarily that Whirlwind had deliberately targeted civilians, just that they had been blown out of his path and landed badly. Tony could see that Whirlwind had begun his journey at a bank at one end of the street.

"Wow, that is incredibly clichéd," said Tony.

"What is?" asked Steve.

"Our bad guy robbed a bank, before heading out to do a bit of shopping," said Tony.

"They don't make super-villains like they used to," said Clint.

"And aren't we all glad of that," said Tony, thinking of their most recent victory against the Red Skull. "I've got a lot of civilian casualties though, so I'm going to try to take him down, or at least get him somewhere with less people."

"Roger that, but don't underestimate him, Iron Man," said Steve, and Tony rolled his eyes at the tone and implied insult to his common sense. "We'll be with you in five."

Iron Man descended so that he landed squarely in front of Whirlwind's path.

"You've got to be getting dizzy by now."

Whirlwind stopped. "They sent Iron Man to deal with me? I guess I made the big leagues."

"Oh, you ain't seen nothing yet, my friend," replied Tony, pointing behind him.

Whirlwind turned slightly, just in time to see Captain America and Hawkeye roll up on a motorcycle. Surprisingly Whirlwind whooped.

"Big leagues!" he shouted again.

"Yeah, whatever," said Tony, raising one hand. He fired his repulsor at Whirlwind. Unfortunately Whirlwind was a lot quicker than Tony had expected him to be. He'd spun up and dodged the beam before Tony could react.

"Damn it," he swore. "He's fast."

Whirlwind sent a blast of rapidly moving air in Tony's direction and he found himself pushed backwards with surprising force. He put a foot out to stop himself and only just prevented himself from ending up as part of a wall. This guy was proving to be annoying.

Steve had jumped off his bike and was busy herding pedestrians out of harm's way. While Clint was standing on a bench with an arrow nocked and ready to fly, just as Whirlwind turned in his direction. Tony had a moment to marvel at the beautiful grace with which Hawkeye executed a somersault off the same bench in order to get out of Whirlwind's way. But the moment was short lived, as Whirlwind changed direction in a split second, like he was in an old fashioned video game. Tony was briefly concerned for Clint, who barely had enough time to pull himself up onto the top of a phone box out of Whirlwind's path, and re-nock his arrow. He fired at the swirling shape and the arrow was caught up in the tornado that surrounded his target. It was blown helplessly around and then dropped to the ground ineffectually.

Clint said nothing, although Tony knew the archer well enough to see that he wasn't happy and had just reached for an explosive arrow. Captain America's shield came flying towards their enemy, but it suffered the same fate as Clint's arrow. Tony fired his repulsors again, but the bastard was dodging like a top and he'd never hit him this way. Even with Jarvis helping, the suit wasn't fast enough and didn't have Clint's aim.

"We need to box him in," said Steve. "Limit his movement."

"How do we do that?" asked Tony.

"I've got an idea," said Clint, and slightly changed his aim.

He let his arrow fly and hit the ground at Whirlwind's feet, which triggered the explosive arrow tip. The mutant dodged, but was simply turned towards Steve, who threw his shield at Whirlwind's feet. This sent him in Tony's direction. He didn't need to be told what to do, he blasted the sidewalk that Whirlwind was moving towards. Instead of dodging this time, Whirlwind seemed to trip and then fall as he hit the rough pavement.

Steve was on him and after that it wasn't even a contest. Without his ability to manoeuvre swiftly and turn, he didn't have anything that Steve could easily best. The guy was in handcuffs before Tony could blink and handed over to SHIELD about twenty minutes later. Tony engineered it so that Steve was left to deal with signing off the paperwork and made a show of checking over his armour.

"Home in time for dinner," said Clint, picking up one of his arrows from the ground and discarding the used arrowhead. "I thought he was going to be tough until Steve came up with his plan."

"He is the man with the plan. Go Team IronCapHawk!"

"Please, never call us that again," said Clint.

"But it's perfect." Tony watched his friend for a few seconds and noted that Clint was still moving a little stiffly. He was also still sporting a bandage around his upper left arm, and Tony wondered how many other injuries Clint was hiding under his Hawkeye outfit.

"Remind me to never let you name anything," replied Clint, with a good natured smile.

"Did you let Bruce take a look at your arm?" asked Tony, realising that it was something of a non-sequitur.

Clint frowned before he answered. "It's just a scrape and practically healed. It's not infected or even that deep. I've had a lot worse. Why the sudden concern?"

Tony did his best to shrug in his suit. "You just looked like something was hurting."

Clint rolled his eyes. "I'm a bit achy. I think I'm coming down with a cold."

"Jarvis, can you give me a read on Hawkeye's vitals," said Tony.

"You haven't complete the biosensor functionality on the new suit, sir," said Jarvis.

"Tony, I'm fine, and you're over reacting," said Clint. "If the wound was going to get infected, then I think it would have done it by now."

Tony sighed. "You might be right. I think I'm jumping at shadows at the moment. God damn it, this PTSD thing both sucks and blows, and I haven't even got it that bad."

"Preaching to the choir," replied Clint, heading over towards Captain America, who was indicating for him to join him.

"Right, my work here is done, I'm heading back to the Tower," said Tony, suddenly feeling the need to get home to check on Pepper and also to get somewhere less exposed than the open street. Yup, PTSD sucked. "See you there."

With that Iron Man was gone.


	4. Chapter 4

About to Blink

AN: Hey there, reviewers, followers and readers. You make my day when you give me feedback.

* * *

Hawkeye was pretty sure that he was coming down with a cold, and had been ever since he'd got back from his mission. He didn't get many bugs, but if something was going around SHIELD then he wasn't immune to the occasional seasonal cold. He rode back to the Tower on the back of Steve's bike. It wasn't far, but he wasn't feeling great by the time he and Steve parted ways to go back to their own floors and change out of their gear.

"Jarvis, tell the others that I'm going to miss dinner and crash. I think I've got the cold that's been doing the rounds of the SHIELD trainees," said Clint to the AI. He headed to his bedroom, dropping his bow and quiver by the door as he went. He shivered a little, and decided a warm shower might help.

"Your body temperature is elevated, Agent Barton. Would you like me to ask Doctor Banner to come to your apartment?"

Clint wasn't terribly surprised to hear that he had a temperature. He shook his head and turned on the hot water, peeling off his clothes and dumping them in a pile on the floor. "It's just a cold. I'll sleep it off and feel better tomorrow. There's no need to bother Bruce."

"Very well, Agent Barton," said Jarvis, making it sound like he wasn't at all happy with Clint's decision.

Clint stepped under the hot water. It didn't make him feel any better or much warmer. After getting clean and a few minutes extra he gave up, dried himself off and pulled on a pair of pyjama bottoms that he found in his bedroom closet. Tony had been shopping on his behalf again. Clint knew this because he didn't actually own a pair of pyjamas and normally slept in his boxers. Usually Tony's insistence on buying stuff for him would have irritated him, but he was actually very glad of the soft, warm fabric of the pyjamas.

He fell into bed and pulled the covers over himself. He was assailed by a terrible headache almost immediately, which seemed to be mainly manifesting itself as a pain behind the eyes. It came on suddenly and without any real warning. He groaned and buried himself deeper into the covers. He reached an arm out from under the covers and fumbled with the drawer on the nightstand. He managed to pull out the bottle of painkillers that he kept there and, even though the pain in his head was worsening, he was just able to shake out a couple of tablets into his hand and swallow them dry. He curled up and waited for them to work so that he could sleep.

He hadn't had a 'flu this bad in a while but he was run down after being on a mission and although his sleep patterns had mostly stabilised, he wouldn't have described himself as a sound sleeper. At least he had a comfortable bed and safe place to be sick this time. The last time he'd felt this bad he'd been on a mission with Natasha in the Philippines and he hadn't had the luxury of sleeping it off. That hadn't been much fun for him or Natasha, but he'd held it together until he could crash back in their safe house.

"Jarvis, dim the lights, please," said Clint.

"Of course, Agent Barton," said Jarvis.

The room darkened, and eventually, Clint slept.

* * *

To Tony's credit, the first thing Bruce heard him say when he entered the room was "Where's Cupid? He'd normally be starving after a mission."

Bruce looked up from his cooking. "He sent a message through Jarvis. He's come down with a cold and isn't feeling great."

"I knew something was up after we took down Whirlwind," said Tony. "But the new suit doesn't have biometric scanning capability yet, so I couldn't confirm it."

Steve placed a stack of three plates on the table. "How did you know something was up then?"

Tony frowned and shrugged. "I'm not sure. He just seemed to be moving stiffly. Like he was sore."

"He was probably already coming down with it," said Bruce.

"Yes! See, I was right," said Tony, taking a seat at the table and totally failing to help set the places. Steve was now putting the knives and forks on the table, whilst Tony was just watching. "People should pay more attention to my brilliance."

What was referred to as the "Common Room kitchen" was really both kitchen and dining room. In some circles it would have been called a "kitchen diner" but that didn't do justice to the opulent fittings or open space. Tony hadn't spared any expense in fitting out the area that the Avengers used for their team dinners, or the kitchen in which they cooked their meals. Bruce's own kitchen, the one he'd had in his house before he'd become the Hulk, could have fitted ten times into the one that he was now cooking in. This was an area which had seen wounded Avengers attempting choke down something despite not feeling like eating, as well as celebration banquets that would have put large hotels to shame. Today, Bruce was cooking curry.

"You could take less joy in a team member being ill," said Steve.

"I'm not taking joy," said Tony. "I'm just being pleased that I was right, although I usually am. I hope he hasn't given it to me."

Bruce kept half an ear on the conversation so that he could smooth ruffled feathers if required. Tony and Steve always had an interesting relationship. There was no doubt that the bond between the Avengers had only strengthened since New York, but Iron Man and Captain America still had fundamentally different views of the world and Bruce couldn't see that changing. However, Steve would always be there if Tony needed him, and Tony secretly respected Steve. They'd trusted each other with their lives on numerous occasions now.

"I'll stop in and see him later," said Bruce, as he brought the food to the table. "Make sure that he's stocked up on painkillers and orange juice."

"Typical Hawkeye," said Steve. "He didn't say a thing whilst we were out. We only know he isn't feeling a hundred percent because he decided to skip dinner."

"Jarvis, keep an extra eye on Hawkeye for me, would you?" said Tony. "I don't trust him to take care of himself when he's sick."

"Yes, sir. His temperature is slightly elevated but still within normal bounds for a seasonal cold, and not currently a cause for concern," replied the AI.

"Okay, let Bruce know if that changes," said Tony.

"Yes, sir," said Jarvis.

They tucked into the food that Bruce had made with enthusiasm. He was pleased to note that both Tony and Steve asked for seconds. Bruce knew that Tony had been skipping meals whilst he sat with Pepper, so it was good to see him eating properly.

"How's Pepper?" asked Steve.

"She'll be fine," said Tony. "Rhodey's with her. He basically gave me the evening off and Pepper told me that she didn't want to see me until tomorrow morning when she's officially cleared to leave the Infirmary."

"I'll go down and relieve Colonel Rhodes after dinner," said Steve.

"Thanks, Steve," said Tony, and he sounded like he genuinely meant it.

Bruce exchanged a slightly worried look with Steve. Tony just didn't say thank you much and if he did then something was probably wrong with him. In this case the previous week's events were enough to explain his sudden fit of manners.

"I've set aside some of the curry in case Colonel Rhodes wants food when he comes back from seeing Pepper," said Bruce. "Or if Clint decides he's hungry later."

Tony nodded in acknowledgement. They ate the rest of the meal, chatting sporadically, with Tony looking tired and worn. They all helped to clear away the dishes, Tony even helped with the washing up. Bruce assumed that it was because he felt he needed the distraction. Steve left to visit Pepper and his presence was replaced a few minutes later by that of Colonel Rhodes.

"Are you heading back first thing?" Tony asked his friend.

"Yeah, I was told that I could have a few days, but people want answers," said Rhodes. "I need to make a report."

"Always with the reports. This is why the military sucks," said Tony.

"I do it, so you don't have to," said Rhodes with a smile. "Because we all know how that would turn out."

"You might have a point there," said Tony.

"This is great, Doctor Banner," said Rhodes, indicating the curry with his fork, "thanks for keeping some for me."

"You're welcome," replied Bruce.

"Bruce cooks a pretty mean curry," said Tony. He poured Rhodes a glass of wine and then poured himself a second.

"So is my armour going to be ready in time for me to take it back with me?" asked Rhodes.

"Uh, I'm about to go and work on it now," said Tony. "It'll be done by morning."

"You'd be better off getting some sleep," Bruce pointed out.

"I've got to agree with Doctor Banner," said Rhodes. "You look like crap, Tony."

Tony sighed. "Kick a man when he's down, Rhodes. But I do want to be there for Pepper tomorrow morning…"

"The armour can wait. I think I might be allowed to visit to pick it up so that we can have the Iron Patriot back again."

"I still think that is the worst name ever," replied Tony.

Bruce had headed off down to his own lab shortly after that to the sounds of Rhodey and Tony arguing teasingly. He had a particularly promising line in some tranquilisers that he was hoping would help control the Hulk and wanted to continue his research. It was late by the time he decided to pack up and head to bed, or possibly early, depending on one's point of view. He was tidying the lab when Jarvis spoke.

"Doctor Banner, I need to alert you that Agent Barton's temperature has risen to dangerous levels," said Jarvis.

Bruce looked up from his tidying. "How high?" he asked, with a frown. He began looking around for his medical bag that he kept stocked for emergencies.

"38.9˚C and appears to still be rising," said Jarvis.

"I'm on my way," said Bruce, locating the bag and checking through the contents.

This wasn't good. If Clint's temperature continued to rise then it could be life threatening, and Bruce would have a medical emergency on his hands. It didn't sound like this was just a cold, as Clint had seemed to think. He jogged to the elevator, which was waiting for him and pressed the button for Clint's floor. Jarvis was being efficient and Bruce was grateful to the AI for lessening the time it would take him to get to his potential patient.

He stepped out of the elevator and turned right towards the black door with the purple bow and arrow symbol on it. He knocked even though he knew that the archer probably wouldn't answer with such a high temperature. Clint was particular about his privacy and Bruce at least wanted to go through the motions.

"Jarvis, medical override on my authority," said Bruce.

"Right away, Doctor Banner," replied Jarvis and the door clicked open.

It was dark inside, because of the early hour. "Jarvis, lights, please. Bring them up slowly and don't turn them on in the bedroom until I get there."

The AI obliged. "Yes, Doctor Banner."

Bruce walked quickly through the tastefully decorated, but slightly untidy, apartment, to the bedroom. He noted the clothes dropped on the floor and the shivering form in the bed.

"Clint?" he moved around to the side of the bed, just as Jarvis was bringing the lights up slowly. "Clint? Can you hear me?" He could feel the heat radiating off Clint's body as he shifted in his sleep. The bedclothes were a mess, which wasn't unexpected. He was curled up but moving restlessly with the tremors of feverish shivers running through him.

"Clint? I need you to wake up for me," said Bruce. He knew better than to touch Clint when he wasn't fully aware, because trained assassins tended to react badly to being snuck up on.

There was a groan and Clint shifted enough that Bruce could see his eyes blink open for a moment. It took a few more seconds for the lids to peel back again and Clint to look at him in a very confused manner.

"Doc?" he managed. "What's going on? What are you doing in Dubai?"

"We're in the Tower in New York. I'm going to take your temperature, just hold still for a moment, okay?"

Clint gave him a half nod, which he took as an affirmative. Bruce pulled his quick-reading in-ear thermometer out and took his own reading of Clint's temperature. It confirmed what Jarvis had already told him. The reading was too high and he needed to get Clint's temperature down. He picked up Clint's wrist and felt for his pulse. It was a little fast but given the fever, probably about right.

"You've got a high temperature. I need to get it down. I'm going to give you an injection and I don't want you reacting badly when I stick you with a needle, because that wouldn't go well for anyone concerned," said Bruce, getting out a bottle of liquid painkiller and readying a needle.

Clint frowned. "It's just a cold."

"It might have started out that way, but it definitely isn't "just" anything now," said Bruce. "This should help to bring down the fever and make you feel a bit more comfortable."

Clint blinked, clearly having trouble just processing what Bruce was telling him, but accepting it because it was Bruce. "Okay," he said, simply, and offered Bruce an arm.

"Sorry, but I need you to roll over," said Bruce.

Clint got his meaning immediately, even with the fever clouding his brain. "Really?"

"It needs to go into muscle and this won't hurt as much as injecting you in the arm, promise," said Bruce.

Clint sighed and rolled onto his front. Bruce lowered the covers, pulled down the waistband on his friend's pyjamas and quickly jabbed the needle into Hawkeye's backside. He was about to replace the sheets when he noticed that Clint's skin was unusually flushed. Bruce frowned as he pulled the covers up again.

"I'm going to need to take some blood," said Bruce, breaking off the first needle into the portable sharps bin and retrieving a new one from his bag. "The arm is fine for this."

Clint slowly rolled over onto his back once more, blinking heavily up at Bruce. "Sure, Doc. How'd you know that I was sick?"

"Jarvis told me your temperature was getting rather high," said Bruce. "I think we might need to move you to the Infirmary."

Clint shook his head. "I'd rather stay here. Be in my own place. It's just a bad cold."

Bruce set about drawing blood, trying to be as gentle as possible. Clint was clearly in pain. "We could monitor you better in the Infirmary. I don't like some of the signs here. If this is 'flu then it's a nasty one. Jarvis, could you wake Steve and tell him that Agent Barton's condition has worsened and I need some help. We might need to call out Doctor Henderson too, but we'll see if I can get his temperature down first."

"Yes, sir," said Jarvis. "Shall I alert Sir as well?"

"No, I don't think we need to disturb Tony. He's got enough to do tomorrow, and I'd rather keep him away from Agent Barton until we know what this is."

"Very well, Doctor Banner," replied Jarvis.

Bruce drew the blood that he needed and carefully labelled the vial.

"Still rather stay here," murmured Clint, his words slurring together.

"Wait until Steve gets here and then we'll discuss it," said Bruce. While they waited, Bruce went to Clint's apartment kitchen and filled a glass full of water. He also picked up a straw, which would make it easier for Clint to drink. Keeping Clint hydrated would be essential, and he didn't want to have to resort to an IV unless he had to. He carried the glass back into his patient's room and set it down on the bedside table.

"Clint? Can you tell me what your symptoms are? How are you feeling?"

Clint's eyes had fallen shut again, but they now worked themselves open again. "Uh, headache, came on suddenly, I took some painkillers but they didn't help much. My joints ache and I can't get warm, must be the fever. Tired. Slept since I got back."

Steve arrived moments later, looking worried. Bruce met him in Clint's living room so that he could give him the details of the situation without disturbing Clint further.

The internal communication system beeped at them and Tony's voice came over the speaker.

"Bruce, what's going on?"

"Tony, I was going to let you sleep," said Bruce.

"Yeah, that wasn't going to happen. . I had an automatic alert set for Jarvis contacting you about a medical emergency. What's up with Legolas?" asked Tony.

"I'm not sure," said Bruce. "Jarvis called me to let me know that he had a dangerously high temperature. It could just be a bad 'flu, but I need to rule out some other things. Do either of you know where he was for his last mission? It could be important."

Steve shook his head. "If it was classified then he wouldn't tell me anyway, and we haven't had much chance to chat since I got back."

Tony sounded like he was considering the problem. "He said his body clock was screwed up, so I think we can rule out anywhere in the US. Can't we just ask him?"

"We can try, but he's pretty tired, a bit confused and the fever's making it hard for him to concentrate," said Bruce.

"I think we need to know," said Steve. "This is an emergency, and we don't need details of what he was doing there. I'm officially SHIELD so maybe he'll tell me."

Steve headed back to Clint's room.

"I wanted to move him up to the Infirmary but he's not keen, so I'm now wondering if we can just bring some monitoring equipment down here," said Bruce.

"Yeah, should be easy enough," said Tony. "Jarvis can monitor his skin temperature and use the holographic display to give you readings. Anything else we can just move down from the Infirmary, as long as it's reasonably portable. If you want anything complicated like brain scans, we'll have to take him to the scanner."

"Hopefully we won't need it. I don't think this is related to his previous bouts of meningitis, he's not showing any light sensitivity and he's complaining of general joint aches which wouldn't fit," said Bruce. He wandered back towards Clint's room, until he was standing in the doorway of the bedroom. "We might need an IV if he gets dehydrated and to administer medication, depending what this is."

Bruce could hear Steve asking gently: "Clint, where was your last mission?"

Clint was shaking his head. "No, won't tell you."

"Clint, you're sick and it might help Bruce to treat you," said Steve.

"No," said Clint, shaking his head.

"Jarvis, display Agent Barton's temperature on the holographic display for Bruce," said Tony, quietly.

A bright red indicator popped up on the nightstand beside Clint's bed. Bruce frowned.

"It's up again. I was hoping that the acetaminophen that I gave him would be bringing it down by now," said Bruce.

"Clint, we don't need to know what you were doing, just a general area where you were," said Steve.

Clint was shaking his head again, and getting progressively more distressed by the questions. "No, never tell you."

"Stop," said Tony, sharply. "He thinks he's being interrogated. The fever's making him loopy. I'll just hack SHIELD for their mission logs."

Bruce could hear Tony tapping furiously on a keyboard. Steve quietened Clint again with a few soothing words, whilst Tony hacked into one of the most secure organisations in the world. Part of Bruce's brain couldn't help but marvel that this was something that he didn't even really blink at anymore.

"Should you be doing that?" asked Steve, looking up at the ceiling where the nearest of Jarvis' sensors was positioned.

"It's better than making Hawkeye think he's being tortured for information. I don't even need to hack the mission files, just the transport logs." Tony tapped faster. "Okay, it looks he was on a flight into Karachi. He was in Pakistan," said Tony.

Bruce had already been thinking along the right lines, and now he had confirmation. It also worried him. He'd spent time in India, doing what he could for the medical care of the poor there and he'd become quite familiar with all the diseases which were common to the area.

"Jarvis, I need Agent Barton's most recent medical records sent to my StarkPad," said Bruce.

"Already done, Doctor Banner," said Jarvis.

"What are you thinking?" asked Steve.

"First guess, malaria, although SHIELD keeps their agents up to date on their anti-malaria drugs and other vaccinations. But there are resistant malaria strains so I can't discount it. Or it could be one of a hundred and one other nasty diseases that there are no vaccinations for and manifest with a fever as one of their early symptoms. And we don't know what he was sent to investigate, there are a lot of bad people doing things with weaponized viruses although they usually work more quickly than this, but he could have been exposed to something. It could even "just" be a nasty case of influenza, but 'flu can kill. I need to get this blood sample to the lab so that I can analyse it and get some more clues," said Bruce. "Then we'll know how to treat this."

"Go, I'll keep an eye on Clint," said Steve.

"I'll bring down a heart monitor," said Tony.

"No, I'd prefer you to stay out of Clint's apartment, just in case this is contagious. Steve and I should be immune. I haven't been sick once since I became the Hulk and from what I've read of the super soldier serum, it should provide immunity to most diseases or at least considerably shorten the recovery time. I know that respiratory diseases hit you harder than a normal person, Tony, so until I've worked out what Clint has, don't come down here."

"It's that bad? I'll see if I can get through to Natasha. If we've got a sick Hawk, then she'll want to know, and we'll need the back-up," said Tony. "She might know what he was up to in Pakistan as well."

"When you've done that, you should head back to bed," said Steve. "You've still got Pepper to look after."

Tony's voice still sounded worried and there was something else in his tone now. "Uh, with respect, Capsicle, I'm not sure that you've got the people skills to manage this on your own."

"And you have I suppose?" said Steve.

"No offence, spangles, but I have more relevant life experience than you do," replied Tony.

"Or you're just trying to avoid being there for Pepper in the morning," said Steve, crossly.

"Enough, both of you," said Bruce, allowing the tiniest edge of fake anger into his voice. He looked pointedly back at the restless archer who lay in his bed, occasionally making small unhappy noises. Tony and Steve shut up immediately. "Clint doesn't need us bickering and I've got work to do. Steve, stay with Clint. Tony, I'll write you a list of equipment we need in here, you can leave it outside the door and then Steve's right, you should go to bed."

"Et tu Bruce," said Tony.

Bruce just rolled his eyes at that. He tapped out a list of equipment on his StarkPad. "Just how many hours have you been up? I'm doing everything that needs to be done and I'll call in Doctor Henderson if I need help. I'm sending you that equipment list."

Tony's sigh was audible even over the com link. "Fine. I'll sort your equipment list and then I'll go to bed."

There was the sound of the com clicking off.

"I think the PTSD is making him a little overprotective of everyone," said Bruce. "Clint being sick isn't going to help matters."

Steve nodded. "We'll deal with it. We came home to help Tony this time, so we'll work with whatever he needs. But our priority tonight is Clint."

Bruce nodded. "I'll get the blood sample analysed and then we'll know more. I'll call you when I've got some results. Jarvis, let me know if Clint's temperature gets up towards 40˚C."

"Yes, sir," said Jarvis, and Bruce went to the lab.


	5. Chapter 5

About to Blink

AN: This chapter contains various medical jargon. As always, I've done my best to be accurate but I'm not a doctor. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, you made my day.

* * *

Tony wasn't at all pleased to be told to go to bed, but Bruce did have a point. However, before he could do that, he had some things to sort out. Number one on the list was getting in touch with Natasha. Which he had very little idea how to accomplish, especially as he doubted Clint would want all of SHIELD to know that he was ill.

Might as well go to the top. "Jarvis, get me Director Fury and see if you can bypass the SHIELD switchboard this time."

"Sir, may I remind you that it is 3am in the morning."

"Yeah, don't care," said Tony. "For all I know he's not even in the same time zone."

"Putting the call through now, sir," said Jarvis.

"Stark, this had better be another alien invasion," said the voice of Nick Fury, moments later.

"No, just wondering if you could get a message through to our favourite red headed assassin," said Tony, with a bit of a grimace.

"Agent Romanoff is undercover and on SHIELD business," said Fury.

"Yeah, I know that. I thought she might want to know that her partner's sick and we could use her back at the Tower. Also, I don't suppose you'd like to enlighten me as to what you had Hawkeye doing in Pakistan?" Tony was already bored of this conversation. He was pretty certain that he knew how this was going to play out. Tony would ask questions and Fury would refuse to answer them.

"This had better be a secure channel that we're on, Stark," said Fury.

"Of course it's secure, this is me," said Tony. "So you can "speak freely", or whatever the euphemism is for spilling the beans on your top secret stuff."

"Hawkeye's last mission is none of your business," said Fury. "How do you even know that he was in Pakistan?"

"I may have picked up the SHIELD rug and looked at the dust you sweep under it," replied Tony.

"So you hacked our systems," said Fury.

"I couldn't possibly comment on that."

"Well, as you've got part of the detail anyway… Hawkeye was undercover as a mercenary for hire with what was supposed to be a Pakistani terrorist organisation, but turned out to be something else," said Fury.

"I don't suppose this involved bioweapons of some kind?" asked Tony, silently pleading with a god that he didn't believe in that it didn't.

"No, just the conventional kind," said Fury, and Tony let out a breath that he hadn't known he'd been holding. "Just how sick is Agent Barton?"

"He's got an impressive fever. Bruce thinks it might be something more than your basic cold or 'flu," said Tony. "Given where he was, we're a tad worried about the other possibilities for interesting bacteria and viruses. Don't worry, we'll be sure to let you know as soon as he's ready to be sent out on another one of your little holiday excursions to the terrorist hotspots of the world."

"Believe it or not, Stark, I do actually care about the health of my agents. Barton is owed more than enough vacation and sick days to cover any kind of absence he needs, and even if he wasn't then I'd be happy to give him the down time after everything that he's been through these last months. I'll get your message to Romanoff, and if you need anything then SHIELD will be pleased to help out. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'd like to actually get some sleep before it's time to get up."

Fury ended the call.

"Well, he was in a bad mood," said Tony, choosing not to consider the fact that he'd probably woken Fury in the middle of the night. "At least we can rule out bioweapons as a source of Hawkeye's illness. Jarvis, have we got all the equipment that Bruce wanted?"

"Yes, sir. I can provide you with locations," said Jarvis.

"Great, let's get to it. We can dump it outside the door and Captain Charisma can collect it," said Tony. "Oh, J, tell Bruce that Clint's last mission didn't involve bioweapons, so we can probably discard that as a possible culprit."

"Yes, sir," replied Jarvis.

Tony spent the next half hour collecting up medical equipment and then moving it to the elevator. He was missing his robots, yet another thing that needed rebuilding after Killian's attack on the Malibu mansion. Not that he ever would have let Dummy loose on some of the more sensitive medical equipment, but he could have done with some help with the heavy lifting. He wheeled a trolley full of medical supplies down the corridor to Clint's apartment door.

Once the medical equipment was in place, there really wasn't much more for Tony to do. He was tired, but doubted that he'd sleep. He decided to compromise and headed down to the lab where he collapsed onto the foldout bed that he continued to think of as Clint's. Somehow he slept better here, even on his own without the archer's presence. Perhaps it was all the memories of the times that Clint had slept here because he felt safe. Maybe some of that feeling of safety had rubbed off on Tony.

"Jarvis, wake me when it's time to get Pepper, or if Clint's condition worsens, or if the world needs saving, you know the usual stuff," said Tony.

"Of course, sir," said Jarvis.

* * *

Clint was confused and sore. His bones ached and the headache had hardly been lessened by what Bruce had injected him with. He was beginning to feel too hot, which was weird after the strange coldness earlier. Nausea rolled across him.

"Clint?" asked a familiar voice.

"Think I'm going to be sick," he said, without opening his eyes.

Someone handed him a bowl, which was just in time as the next thing he knew, he was throwing up the meagre contents of his stomach. He wretched unhappily for a couple of minutes, until there was nothing left to throw up and his stomach quietened a bit.

"Finished?"

Clint nodded and the bowl was taken away. He could hear the sounds of water running in the bathroom and then the person was back.

"Clint, you should try to drink some water," said the familiar voice.

Clint turned his head to be greeted by a concerned looking Steve Rogers.

"Is Captain America really playing nurse at my bedside?"

Steve gave him a slight smile. "Yes, now drink some water."

"Just checking. I could have sworn I was in Dubai earlier," said Clint.

Steve held the straw out, and Clint did his best to push himself up enough that he could drink. He had no strength in his aching arms and the movement just caused more pain to shoot through his body. Steve reached an arm behind his back and surprisingly gently helped to hold him up.

"Fever dreams will do that to you," said Steve, as he lowered Clint back down after he'd finished drinking.

"I'm not sure if that's going to stay down," said Clint. His stomach didn't feel exactly happy, but even befuddled by fever he remembered that staying hydrated was important.

"I've got the bowl right here if you need it again," said Steve. Clint was still having trouble with the idea that Captain America was looking after him. "You should get some more sleep, it'll help."

"Steve, if I'm delirious," said Clint, "I don't want to hurt anyone. There's a lot of really bad stuff lurking in my brain."

"It's okay, Clint, we know not to startle you when you're not fully aware," said Steve.

Clint shook his head. "That wasn't what I meant. I need you to change the code on my weapons cupboard and clear out the weapons in the room. I'll tell you where they all are…"

"I'm pretty sure that's not necessary," said Steve. "If you can't hold yourself up to drink a glass of water then you're not going to be able to attack anyone."

"Adrenaline's powerful stuff, Cap," said Clint. "Please, it'll make me feel better. Grab an empty box from the bottom of the closet."

Steve sighed but gave a nod of agreement. He grabbed the clear plastic box that he found in the bottom of the closet and Clint handed him the knife that he kept under his pillow as a starter. He then directed Steve to collect the bow and quiver that he kept under his bed and the hand gun from his nightstand. There was a pair of handguns taped to the underside of the shelf in a cupboard and more knives tucked into the bottom of one of the curtains. There were some throwing stars and spare arrows attached to the bottom of the sofa that sat at the end of the bed, plus the backup bow and quiver hidden behind the laundry hamper too.

"Is that it?" asked Steve, clearly a little perturbed by the small arsenal that Clint had hidden around his room.

Clint couldn't remember if there was more, so he nodded. If he couldn't remember where it was hidden then he wouldn't be able to find it and use it.

"Did you really need all of this hidden in your bedroom?" asked Steve.

"SHIELD doesn't lack for enemies, neither do I," said Clint, he was barely awake.

"Yes, but you personally reviewed the security arrangements for this building and Jarvis won't let anyone into your apartment without your say so or a medical override," said Steve.

"Computers can be hacked," said Clint. "Get enough men, any security can be breached. You and Tony aren't always home to help me out against the bad guys."

Steve raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Clint gave him the code to his weapons cupboard and took him through how to change it. After that he fell asleep again. He was so tired that even his aching limbs weren't enough to stop him. He hadn't even asked if they knew what was wrong with him, he was still working on his hypothesis of it being 'flu but it didn't feel much like any 'flu he'd ever had before. He didn't think Steve would have looked quite so worried if it was 'flu either.

* * *

Bruce had kept half an eye on Clint's temperature during the night, whilst he worked. It had risen to almost 40˚C as the earlier drugs had worn off but not gone higher. He'd prefer that it was lower, and was on his way to administer more antipyretics, when Jarvis let him know that the results of Clint's latest batch of blood tests were complete.

Steve had called earlier to let him know that Clint had developed a rash of small red dots. That was followed by a second call to say that Clint was feeling nauseous and had been throwing up. The vomiting fitted with malaria, as did the fever and joint pain, but the rash wasn't right.

Bruce had tested for everything that he could think of, starting with malaria as still the most likely culprit. But it hadn't been malaria, which he would normally be pleased about, but he still had a lot of other things to test for. Clint had a low white blood cell count which had been the first clue, but he needed more to go on. He'd done a test for the NS1 viral antigen, which Jarvis was now informing him had just come back positive.

He looked at his watch to find that it was 7am and he'd worked through the entire night. The presence of the NS1 antigen wasn't exactly good news but it wasn't as bad as it might have been. He stepped out of the elevator on Clint's floor. The door clicked open as he approached.

"Thanks, Jarvis," said Bruce. The first thing he noticed in the lounge was the large clear plastic box of assorted weaponry on the coffee table. He'd have raised an eyebrow but this was Avenger's Tower and both Clint and Natasha typically had small arsenals about their person at any given moment. He was tired, but hopefully after this he could get some sleep. He walked into the bedroom, with a quiet knock on the door frame. Clint was sleeping, his skin flushed with small red spots and damp with sweat.

Steve was sat in an armchair and stood as Bruce came in. "I'm glad you're here. I was about to call you but Jarvis said that you were on the way."

"Yeah, Jarvis told me that his temperature's been on the rise again. I've got a diagnosis," said Bruce.

"What is it?"

"Dengue fever. Which means things could be a lot worse, but we'll have to keep a close eye on him in case it develops into Dengue Shock Syndrome. But that only happens in about five per cent of cases. Best case, he's going to be laid up for about a week with this and then have several weeks of recovery time to get back to full health," said Bruce.

Steve hung his head for a moment, giving it a slight shake. "Hardly seems fair. He's just got over Loki. He's been back in the field for what? Four months?"

"I know, but he'll get over this too," said Bruce. "I'm actually sort of relieved, there are a lot of worse things it could have been."

"So what do we do?"

"Pretty much what we've been doing already. There aren't any anti-virals that we can give him, so it's a matter of treating the symptoms and keeping him comfortable. I'll set up an IV to keep him hydrated and give him some pain relief, that should be enough."

Bruce got to work. Clint moved restlessly in his sleep, muttering quietly to himself.

"What's with the box of weapons in the lounge?" asked Bruce.

"Clint had a small arsenal of weapons in here and he was worried he might be confused and hurt someone. I'm pretty sure he's too sick to be doing anything, but if it makes him happier…" Steve didn't need to finish. Clint was in for a rough few days and anything they could do to make him feel better would be done.

"After what happened with Loki, I'm not surprised that he's worried about losing control," said Bruce.

"Of course, I hadn't thought of it like that," said Steve.

Bruce cleaned an area of Clint's skin on the back of his hand and got a needle ready. Just as he inserted the needle into the vein, a hand shot out and wrapped itself around his wrist. Bruce realised half a second too late that Clint was more awake than he'd thought.

"What are you doing to me?" Clint blinked lazily, his eyes were glassy and unfocused, but his grip was strong.

"Clint," said Bruce, freezing in the midst of his task. "It's okay, I'm just putting an IV line in. You have Dengue Fever."

Bruce could feel Steve tensing beside him and he carefully held up his free hand to indicate that he'd handle this. The last thing he wanted was for Clint to hurt him and then the Hulk to make an appearance and possibly hurt Clint. But Clint was still looking confused.

"Bruce?" he asked.

"Yeah, you've got quite a grip there," said Bruce.

"Sorry," said Clint, and let go of Bruce's arm.

"Can I put the IV line in now?"

Clint gave a grudging nod. "Breakbone Fever, huh?" he asked.

Bruce took a moment to understand what Clint was asking. Then he nodded, recognising the other name for the disease. "Yeah, sorry, but you'll be feeling better in a few days."

"No wonder it hurts." Clint groaned. "Damned mosquitos." His eyes falling shut again.

Bruce took the opportunity to get the IV line started. Clint flinched very slightly, but didn't try to stop Bruce again. He set the drip to the right rate and made sure it was securely taped in place. Knowing how restless Clint was, he double taped it. He noted with approval that Clint's temperature was slightly lower now.

"What did he mean "breakbone fever"?" asked Steve.

"It's another name for Dengue Fever. It refers to the muscle and joint aches because they're very painful. I've just dosed him up on painkillers again, so he should sleep for a while now. It's the best thing for him," said Bruce. "I guess SHIELD briefed their agents on tropical diseases, so he knows what to expect."

"He didn't mention that he was in pain," said Steve, looking slightly guilty. "I should have known he wouldn't say anything."

"He's too stubborn for his own good," said Bruce. "I know you said you don't need much sleep, but if you want to close your eyes, now might be a good time. Jarvis will let us know if anything changes on the monitors. I need to go and tell Tony what's going on."

"I'll take the sofa in the lounge. That way I'll be closer in case I'm needed," said Steve. "But once you've told Tony, go and get some sleep yourself."

Bruce nodded. "Yeah, I couldn't stay awake much longer if I tried. Those painkillers should hold Clint for a good few hours, but call me if you need anything."

"Will do, but we'll be fine, I'm sure."

Bruce left to find Tony.

* * *

"Let me take you from this white prison of antiseptic and bandages," said Tony, as he walked into Pepper's room. The small snag was that Pepper wasn't in the bed, she wasn't even in the room. Tony's heart nearly stopped as visions of Pepper being kidnapped by some mass murdering super-villain ran through his head. Then the seeming skip of a beat turned into a speeding up until it seemed that his heart might explode out of his chest. He sat down on the bed just before his legs decided they couldn't hold him up any longer.

"Oh my god, Tony!" said Pepper, coming out of the adjoining bathroom. "Come on, slow, deep breaths." She rushed over and sat beside him, hugging him tightly. "It's okay."

"I thought you weren't here," said Tony, having trouble even getting the words out.

"I'm here, I'm fine. Everything's fine," said Pepper.

Tony nodded. "Yes, just the stupid PTSD again. I told you. I'm a hot mess right now." His heart rate was gradually slowing, as the object of his panic had appeared, safe and sound. "We can't live like this."

"We'll work it out," said Pepper. "I've been thinking about how we deal with this. Basically it involves Jarvis broadcasting a picture of me whenever you need it. I'll stay in the building for the next week, but after that we'll have to work out some mechanism for checking in so that we know that we're both safe. Because, if I'm being honest, I'm getting a few issues with you going out on your own too."

Tony felt a little better. The panic attack hadn't really had the opportunity to properly get going so wasn't as bad as it could have been. He nodded at Pepper's suggestion. "I can work with that. In the meantime, I suggest Marco Polo. Do you want Marco or Polo?"

"Marco," smiled Pepper, as she pulled back from the hug.

"Polo," said Tony. "I apologise in advance for all the stupid times that I'm going to call you up just to check that you're okay."

The two of them wandered back up to the penthouse, hand in hand, to find Bruce Banner waiting for them at the elevator.

"Hey big guy," said Tony. "How's our Hawk?"

"Is Clint injured?" asked Pepper.

"He's managed to contract a case of Dengue Fever," said Bruce.

"I have no idea what that is," said Tony, hitting the elevator button for the penthouse and beckoning for Bruce to join them as the doors opened.

"It's a virus spread by mosquitos. As long as we keep an eye on him, he should be fine. People can recover just fine without medical intervention, but he'll be more comfortable with painkillers and some help to keep hydrated. There's a really small chance that it might develop into something more serious once the initial febrile stage has passed, but it's a really small chance," said Bruce.

"This is Hawkeye," said Tony. "The words "trouble magnet" were invented just to describe him."

"Well hopefully this time we'll be lucky. The good news is that it isn't contagious, so you're fine to go and see him, although he's still a bit delirious from the fever and mostly sleeping," said Bruce. "Steve removed all the weapons from his bedroom. Clint's idea apparently, but probably better safe than sorry."

"Why am I not surprised? I bet Legolas had arrows, guns and knives stashed everywhere."

"I saw the result of the search. There were quite a few," said Bruce. "Did you get a message to Natasha?"

"I talked to Fury, but he made it clear that she's undercover and not to be disturbed," said Tony. "He wouldn't give me much detail on what Clint had been up to either, but at least we know that it didn't involve bioweapons."

"He did tell me it had all gone fine until he'd ended up being chased by some bad men through a swamp," said Pepper.

"Swamp? Plenty of mosquitos in there," said Bruce.

"Would it have helped if you'd known sooner?" asked Pepper, a little worried.

Bruce shook his head. "I was already looking in the right place. I doubt I'd have got there any faster."

The elevator reached the penthouse and Tony headed for the kitchen. Pepper moved towards the bedroom.

"Marco!" she shouted as she left the room.

"Polo!" shouted Tony.

"Do I even want to ask?" said Bruce.

Tony put the coffee on. "We're looking on the lighter side of posttraumatic stress."

"Marco!" shouted Pepper from the bedroom.

"Polo!" shouted Tony.

"And how long are you planning on doing this? It's not exactly practical," said Bruce.

"As long as it takes for both of us to be comfortable," said Tony.

"Marco!"

"Polo!"

Bruce just raised an eyebrow.

"I'm going to work something out for us. Probably involving Jarvis, and Pepper and I giving up on keeping anything secret from each other for a while," said Tony. "It'll take me an hour or so to set up. Then…"

"Marco!"

"Polo! Then I promise we'll stop this."

Pepper walked into the room looking a bit fresher and with makeup on. "I'm going to work from the office in the penthouse. I've got no meetings scheduled elsewhere in the building, but I may go down to see Clint later. The only person who will be visiting me here will be my assistant, Laura. Now, please, eat breakfast and then go to the lab or whatever else you had planned for today."

"What I had planned for today was staying with you," said Tony.

"Well, I don't want you staying with me. I've got work to do and you're just going to distract me," said Pepper.

Tony gave Bruce a sidelong look, before looking back at his girlfriend. "Actually I was kind of looking forwards to the distracting part."

Pepper blushed slightly. "Tony!"

"Okay, I'm leaving now. Have fun, guys," said Bruce rapidly heading back to the elevator.

Tony smirked, and poured Pepper a cup of coffee. He pulled her towards him for a lazy and long kiss. It was just then that his phone rang. The caller ID said "Number Withheld" and Tony sighed. He was probably about to have an awkward conversation with a concerned redhead when he would rather be doing other things.

"This is Tony Stark's life model decoy…"

"That didn't work on Coulson, why on Earth would you think it would work on me?" asked Natasha Romanoff. "What's wrong with Clint?"

"He's got Dengue Fever, but Bruce is taking care of it," replied Tony. "Apparently he thought it would be fun to hang out around a swamp and get bitten by some evil mosquitos."

"Agents don't always get to pick their escape routes, and snipers rarely get much choice in their perches."

"I hadn't thought of that," said Tony. "Anyway, Bruce is on it, so you don't need to worry."

"Then why the call to Fury?"

"I was worried that Fury had him hunting down bioweapons, but it looks like I was wrong on that one. Also Pepper's just got out of the Infirmary, Steve's useless when it comes to bedside manner and Bruce is being his usual efficient self and missing sleep in the process. We could do with the extra pair of hands here. Not to mention that we're dealing with a sick Clint Barton. Past experience tells me that this is going to be hard work, tiresome and frustrating."

Natasha gave a small laugh that had very little humour in it. "For him or you? But I see your point, this _is_ Hawkeye we're dealing with. I'll be back as soon as I can. I just have a few bits and pieces to wrap up here," she said. There was the sound of someone biting back a yelp of pain in the background. "Hang on a second." Then there was the unmistakable sound of someone punching someone and another grunt of pain. "Sorry, I'm working, but it shouldn't take me more than a day or so to get back to New York. Do you think you can hold out until then?"

"Yeah, we'll be fine. He's mostly sleeping, according to Bruce," said Tony. Even Hawkeye couldn't get into trouble in his sleep.

"If he's got a fever, he's probably reliving desert missions. Make sure he doesn't have any weapons in the room. It'll make everyone feel better. Trust me on this one," said Natasha.

"Already taken care of," said Tony. "Steve did the scavenger hunt."

"Good. You might want to check the bathroom too. Look in the cistern," said Natasha. "And please tell me that you have locked the roof access."

"Uh, I will most certainly be making sure of that," said Tony.

Natasha groaned. "I hope you've got someone watching him at least."

"Steve's with him," said Tony.

"Okay, good choice. See you in a day or so," said Natasha.

The conversation was over. Natasha hung up the phone without bothering to say "bye".

"Why is Steve a good choice? Is she implying that I wouldn't be a good choice?" asked Tony, indignantly.

"You and Clint once came up from the lab with your eyebrows missing," pointed out Pepper. Tony remembered that incident. They'd been testing some new rockets for the Mark 10 armour, except the rocket had kind of got away from them.

"So what? They grow back. Jarvis, lock down Clint's roof access," said Tony.

"Yes, sir," said Jarvis.

"You didn't do that as soon as he came down with the fever?" said Pepper, incredulously.

"There was a lot going on," said Tony. "And as Bruce said, he's mostly sleeping."

"You do remember that Clint left the Tower, having been grounded by SHIELD, after recovering from meningitis and still under the lingering effects of being sedated. I was the one who had to track down his plane seat reservation to Washington DC," said Pepper.

"One of several underestimations on my part of what Clint was capable of, which will not be happening again. But not something that I want to be reminded about at the moment, especially not when I'm about to invite you to my bed," said Tony.

"Your bed? Are you sure it's not 12 per cent my bed?" asked Pepper with a smile.

"And there it is. Are you ever going to be able to forget that I said that?"

"Maybe," grinned Pepper. "Why don't you see if you can make me forget?"

Pepper took Tony's hand and led him towards the bedroom.


	6. Chapter 6

About to Blink

AN: Here's a slightly longer chapter, and Natasha is back!

* * *

Two days after she'd spoken with Tony, Natasha Romanoff walked into Avengers Tower. She headed straight for the Common Room, expecting to find at least someone there. She entered to see Tony sat on the sofa with holograms of all the blueprints of the Tower around him.

"Damn it, Jarvis, he's spent the last three days barely conscious," said Tony.

"Yes, sir, but his temperature is now within acceptable parameters and he specifically asked me not to give away his location," said Jarvis. "As you know, my privacy protocols are quite strict."

Tony let out an exasperated noise somewhere between a groan and a scream.

"Trouble?" asked Natasha.

Tony whirled around to see her, surprised by her arrival and bashed his knee on the coffee table. "Damn it! Good, you're back. Maybe you can find him."

Natasha raised an eyebrow. There could only be one person that Tony would lose in his own tower. "You lost Hawkeye."

"I just turned my back for a minute. I needed coffee."

"He's feeling better?" asked Natasha.

"His fever went down this morning. Bruce said something about a saddleback fever, meaning he gets a reprieve in the middle before it comes back…" Tony went back to staring at the blueprints. "Anyway, he was weak, but awake and not trying to tell me that I needed saving from non-existent terrorists in a desert somewhere, which has been kind of a common occurrence the last couple of days …"

"So, you thought you could safely leave him on his own for a few minutes to go to the kitchen," said Natasha. "Perhaps I should have made it clearer when we spoke that this is Clint Barton, Hawkeye, a member of the Avengers, that you are dealing with."

"No one knows better than me what a Houdini your partner is, but he was sick. Sane people stay in bed until they feel better!" shouted Tony, in a frustrated manner.

"You haven't told Bruce or Steve yet that he's missing, have you?" asked Natasha.

"No. No, I have not, and I'm still really hoping to avoid that. Help? Please?"

Natasha couldn't quite believe what she was seeing. Tony Stark was actually using puppy dog eyes to try to get her to help him.

She gave a theatrical sigh. "You checked the roof?"

"Yes, even though the roof access from his apartment is locked down," said Tony. "I've checked the armoury, the gym, the range, the pool and the labs. I know he didn't leave the building because Jarvis would have told me, even with the privacy protocols in place."

"And the other outside spaces? The veranda and landing pads? He likes high and outside."

Tony looked towards the large window that looked out onto the helipad. "I think we'd see him if he was on the helipad. Come on, we'll check the veranda and the Iron Man landing pad."

Natasha and Tony took the stairs up the two flights to get to the lounge of the penthouse. Tony went to the window and then opened the door that led onto the veranda. New York in January wasn't exactly warm and the sky was a fairly menacing grey today. Natasha was certain that Clint was outside somewhere, and that he'd be sitting there happily staring out at the city.

They checked the veranda and found no sign of Clint. Although there were corners of the balcony structure that were hard to see from inside in the lounge, it was an open area without many places to hide a grown man. They moved on to the Iron Man landing platform which was somewhat vertiginous for anyone not wearing a suit of flying armour, but the height wouldn't have bothered Clint.

Tony opened the doors and stepped outside. "You have got to be fucking kidding me, Legolas."

Natasha also stepped through the doors and could see what Tony did now. Clint had sat himself on the sweeping curve that was at the point where the platform met the main building. There was a sheer drop on his right, and he was leaning back against the curve like he was in a hammock at the beach rather than lying on the edge of one of the tallest buildings in New York. It also had the advantage that it was hard to be seen from any of the windows in the penthouse. He wasn't exactly hiding, but he'd definitely picked a hard to find spot.

Natasha noted how pale her partner was and the red, measles like rash that covered his skin. His eyes were bloodshot and his movements slow. He was wrapped in a blanket over his usual workout clothes, which Natasha suspected was all he'd been able to grab as he'd left his apartment.

"Can't I get a moment alone anywhere?" said Clint, his tones rough. He turned slightly to see Tony, but he definitely hadn't seen Natasha yet.

"Yeah, you're sick. No alone time until we're sure you're not getting the severe version of what you've got. Come down here before Bruce discovers you're not in your room and hulks out," said Tony.

"It's a little grey for sunbathing," said Natasha, taking a step forwards so that Clint could see her too.

"'Tasha," he said, meeting her eyes. She knew that he was pleased to see her. "You finished your mission?"

"I may have done a rush job so that I could come back here and make sure Stark wasn't screwing up looking after Pepper," said Natasha. Everyone present knew the words were a lie, and not the real reason why she was standing in the Tower at this moment, but no one was going to spoil it and tell her otherwise. Clint needed his pride.

"Pepper's doing fine," said Tony, with a little annoyance. "I, on the other hand, am being driven mad by one Clint Barton, who is probably the worst patient in the history of medicine. Which says something, because I'd count myself as the second worst and I very rarely put myself second to anyone."

"Come on, let's get you inside before Tony pops a blood vessel," said Natasha. "It's too cold for you to be out here when you're recovering from Dengue Fever."

Natasha stepped over so that she was in position for Clint to lean on her if he needed it. He slowly uncurled himself from his perch and moved down so that he could get his legs over the edge of the lip and onto the walkway. He was clearly weak, but determined to walk on his own, so she let him.

"More in the eye of the storm than recovering," said Clint. Natasha nodded, remembering Tony's words about Dengue being a "saddleback" fever.

"I know, Common Room," said Tony. "We'll set him up down there and he can entertain himself with movies, games and the inane chatter of his team mates."

Clint wobbled on his feet and Natasha wrapped an arm around her partner. "Sounds good," murmured Clint, clearly tired.

"Go ahead and get some blankets and pillows," said Natasha. "I'll get him down there."

Tony nodded and headed off, leaving the two assassins to make their way rather more slowly to the elevator and down to the Common Room.

"Feeling claustrophobic?" asked Natasha.

"I needed the sky above me and a clear view to the horizon," replied Clint, as they walked.

"You do realise that Tony is currently in a bad phase of PTSD and that means he's worried about everyone who he thinks of as his to protect," said Natasha.

Clint stopped for a moment. "Shit. Did I just screw up by going off the grid and telling Jarvis to not give away my position?"

"You're ill. I think you're forgiven," said Natasha. "But please don't do it again, because you'll have me to answer to if you do. And I know that this time you weren't even trying to hide."

"All he had to do was walk outside," muttered Clint.

"Tony didn't know that," said Natasha. "You should have seen him, with his plans all laid out…"

"I never meant for him to freak out," said Clint. "I just needed a moment to myself. I hate being inside too long, and I know we're up pretty high here, but it isn't like being outside."

"I understand," said Natasha, as they got to the elevator. "But you knew he was watching you to make sure your fever wasn't spiking again and you did it anyway. Where's your head?"

"Apparently not here," said Clint. "Honestly, I don't know. This building has more than enough PTSD to keep an entire army of shrinks employed for years." Clint stopped walking for a moment, and Natasha had to pull him forwards to enter the elevator. "Maybe I'm not as back from Loki as I thought, Nat."

"You're back enough. But it's like I said before; you can't shrug off having your mind possessed by a god. It's going to take time. I know that you wanted to be back in the field asap, and I know that you fooled the shrinks into thinking that you're over it and ready for missions. But you're not over Loki, Clint. You're just getting better at covering." She pressed the button for the Common Room floor.

"I hate you," said Clint.

"I know," said Natasha, with a teasing smile. "It's because I know you too well, and I'm more awesome than you are."

"When you can shoot my bow and hit the targets that I do, then you'll be more awesome than me."

"We'll see. But you're still sick, and trying to pretend you're not, won't help," pointed out Natasha.

"I've had a lifetime of dodging bullets. You know what it's like. You never let the enemy suspect that you're not one hundred percent, and then it becomes not letting anyone see..."

"Just because you're paranoid doesn't mean that they're not after you," said Natasha, as they reached the Common Room floor.

"Especially if you're playing Call of Duty with Tony Stark," replied Clint. The elevator doors opened to the Common Room floor and Tony was waiting for them.

"Fantastic, you actually made it. I was kind of worried that we'd need to call for backup," said Tony, who was sat at his laptop. "And I've just finished redecorating after the last time the Hulk decided to make an appearance, so I'm really happy not to have to do that again because Bruce lost it with my inability to keep you safe."

"He was safe," said Natasha.

"I knew what I was doing," said Clint. "All my fault, if Bruce asks. Sorry, Tony, I shouldn't have disappeared like that."

"Please, never apologise to me again, Legolas, it's too weird," said Tony, concentrating on his screen. "But apology accepted. Although I'm kind of sensitive about knowing where people are at the moment, so I may have over reacted a touch."

"I'll try to remember that," said Clint, as he sank down on the sofa. "Was I this bad?"

"Worse," said Natasha.

"Welcome to the PTSD brotherhood," said Clint.

"And sisterhood," said Pepper, walking in carrying a pile of blankets with a pillow on top. "Marco."

"Polo," replied Tony, without missing a beat. "Sorry, this is a thing now."

"Awesome," replied Clint, in a tone that made it clear that it wasn't. "Hey, Pepper. Wanna re-match at Monopoly? Nat's back."

Pepper shook her head as she handed the blankets to Clint and put the pillow on the sofa behind him. "Oh no, I heard about your last game with Natasha. Can I get you a hot drink? You look cold."

"Coffee, double strength," said Tony, before Clint could reply.

"Do I look like your personal assistant?" asked Pepper.

"Actually…" began Tony, but a look from Pepper silenced him.

"You're also not the one who's recovering from Dengue Fever," said Pepper. "Mr Stark, your presence is required in the kitchen."

Tony sighed theatrically, and put his laptop to one side. "Coffee it is then. Except Clint. You get hot chocolate until Bruce says otherwise."

Clint groaned. "But I love coffee."

Pepper disappeared into the kitchen and Tony grudgingly followed, with a look back at his two friends. Clint smirked.

"He really does love her," said Natasha, slightly incredulously.

"You sound surprised," said Clint, as he got comfortable on the sofa.

"I don't think I'd realised until now," said Natasha.

"Because love is for children?" asked Clint, pulling a blanket across his body.

Natasha fixed him with a look. He wasn't supposed to know that.

"I watched the videos. I wanted to know what lies he told you. Actually, I don't think he told you a single one," said Clint.

This interested her a bit, but she didn't want to pursue that conversation right now.

"What I believe doesn't matter, but perhaps it makes me cynical on occasion," said Natasha.

Clint was already getting ready to settle into sleep. He would only do that in the open if people he trusted were nearby, and for a few seconds Natasha allowed herself the luxury of watching him close his eyes. Lately this weird life that she had threw up occasional quiet moments of happiness and she was beginning to learn to just let them be. She was beginning to accept that she might be attached to these people around her and that, yes, she too had begun to trust them.

* * *

Clint knew the lie of the land. He had contracted a virus that killed people very occasionally, (in extremely rare circumstances; it was pretty much a one per cent chance and he'd have needed to be infected before for even that much risk), and therefore all the Avengers (plus Pepper) were in the mood to treat him like glass, because Tony and Pepper had cases of PTSD that rivalled his own post-Loki, Natasha always regarded him as hers to protect because they owed each other so many times over, Steve was basically an overgrown boy scout, and Bruce had a lot of guilt to work though. Luckily Thor was still in Asgard or else he'd have probably decided to get in on the act too. Basically, he was now the target of a lot of fussing and what he regarded as overprotective nonsense.

It was all driving him absolutely crazy, and had been doing so since he'd woken up feeling a little better that morning.

There had been a small victory when he'd been allowed to move to the sofa in the Common Room, but that had been when his fever had ebbed. It had been nice to get out of his apartment and Natasha's return to the Tower had been extremely welcome. He'd enjoyed playing computer games with Tony before dozing on the sofa again, when his weakened body refused to keep his eyes open any longer.

He probably only had a few more hours before the fever returned and, of course, the Avengers had been called out. At the moment the team was Iron Man, Captain America, The Black Widow and the Hulk, if Bruce got angry enough. With Thor still in Asgard, they were already down part of their air support and strike ability. Tony could handle it on his own as long as the threat wasn't sufficiently large. Natasha would handle the hand to hand, but was better put to use on intelligence gathering. Steve would be the backbone of the team, the rock that they all turned to in times of trouble and looked to for tactical brilliance. Bruce would hulk out when required and smash whatever was needed, whilst being the quiet voice of reason the rest of the time that everyone expected to soothe troubled waters.

Meanwhile Clint was lying on the sofa, failing to do anything. He was supposed to be the eyes for the team, the person who could see the entire picture and feed information out. He was supposed to be the sniper that hit everything that he aimed at, choosing the high value targets and taking them down, thus making his team's battles easier. He was not supposed to be sick and useless whilst they risked their lives. The others had taken pity on him and given him a com line, and Jarvis was relaying video feeds from the battle. Pepper had gone back to her office so that she didn't accidentally distract him at a critical moment, but made him more hot chocolate before she left.

"Iron Man, you've got one trying to sneak up on your left," he said, checking the camera which currently had Tony in its view.

A repulsor blast slammed into the offending member of the Serpent Society - Anaconda. The problem was that it only knocked her back rather than taking them down. A second blast put the blonde haired, snake-like villain on the ground. They appeared to have decided to attempt an attack on the Fridge, a SHIELD high security prison where Viper was currently being held.

"Damn it, these cameras don't give me enough coverage," said Clint.

Iron Man had turned his attention back to Rock Python, who was a somewhat tougher opponent since his skin was impervious to bullets. The lame light blue spandex outfit made it a bit hard to take him seriously however. Tony had the advantage of having armour, although was having to dodge "snake egg" bombs every so often.

"You're doing fine, Hawkeye," said Steve.

"I should be there with you."

"If you had the strength to draw your bow, then I might agree with you," replied Steve.

Clint groaned at the reminder.

"I'd have let him come if he had the strength to stand for more than five minutes," added Natasha.

Clint rolled his eyes, but luckily Natasha couldn't see that. "Not helping, Nat."

He pulled up the camera feed that showed Natasha firing her pistols at Bushmaster. This member of the Serpent Society was half snake and had a long green tail, as well as two wickedly sharp blade protruding from his fists. She dodged out of the way of a swipe of his claws and jumped onto his tail. She straddled it and shocked him with her Widow's Bite, leaving the snake-man twitching.

"Bushmaster is down," said Natasha.

"Anaconda's not getting up," said Tony. "But Rock Python's being a bit stubborn. Watch out for his bombs – they're full of some kind of sticky ribbons. I got some on my left arm and now it won't come off."

"Hold on Iron Man, I'll be with you as soon as I can," said Steve.

"Hulk's dealing with Rattler," said Clint.

He had a good view of the side of the building where Hulk was in the process of pulling off the tail of Rattler. Unfortunately Rattler wasn't quite done for yet. His bionic tail had a device inside it that could produce vibrations created powerful shockwaves and mini earthquakes. Hulk was knocked off his feet and dropped Rattler in the process. Hulk jumped to his feet and clapped his hands together knocking down Rattler in his own shockwave.

"Nice move from the big green guy there," said Clint.

He turned his attention to Captain America, who was slugging it out with Cottonmouth. It wasn't much of a contest. Cap had this one in the bag without even breaking a sweat. Cottonmouth's main ability was using his inhumanly strong jaws to attack and Steve was staying well clear of those. A carefully timed swipe from his shield put Cottonmouth on the ground and then Steve turned back towards Rock Python.

"Steve!" shouted Clint, as Cottonmouth suddenly surged up from the ground. He didn't have time to shout anything else, and Clint grabbed for a non-existent arrow to put to a non-existent bow as Cottonmouth sank his jaws into Steve's left shoulder. He heard the exclamation of pain from his team-mate as the fangs sank in. The next closest Avenger was the Black Widow. "Natasha, Steve's been bitten by Cottonmouth."

"Coming," replied the Black Widow, her guns out and ready, her voice calm.

She took a flying kick into Cottonmouth, dislodging him from Steve's shoulder, which was now bleeding badly. Steve was on his side on the ground, although pushing himself up pretty quickly. Copperhead took a step sideways away from both Captain America and the Black Widow, but he couldn't dodge bullets. The Black Widow got him once in the arm and a second time in the leg. This time he wouldn't be getting up again.

Steve was now on his feet and heading towards where Iron Man was still having trouble with Rock Python. An egg bomb came sailing through the air in his direction but he easily sidestepped it and hefted his shield with his right arm. He pulled back and sent the shield flying into Rock Python's side, just as he'd picked up another of his bombs. The impact caused him to drop the bomb and deploy the sticky ribbons across his own legs and feet. The snake-villain found himself stuck to the ground and was suddenly an easy target for Iron Man's repulsors. After that, the battle was over quickly.

Clint breathed a sigh of relief, but he couldn't help feeling sure that if he'd been there, Cap wouldn't now be injured. Clint would have put an arrow in Cottonmouth before he'd closed the gap to his prey.

"Well, that was fun," said Iron Man. "Or not. Are you bleeding, Cap?"

Clearly Iron Man had been too busy with Rock Python to monitor what had happened with Steve. That's why they needed Hawkeye. He was usually the only one who had the full overview of the battle.

"Just a scratch," said Steve. "When Bruce is back, I'll get him to take a look at it."

"No you won't," said Natasha. "I'll get the first aid kit from the Quinjet and look at it now before you bleed out." She headed back to where they'd parked the Quinjet.

Steve's shoulder was literally covered in blood and Clint wasn't at all happy with the way the wound looked.

"Give me a scan of the Captain's wound, Jarvis," said Tony, landing beside Steve.

"Sir, you still haven't found time to install the biosensors in this suit," said Jarvis.

"Damn it," said Tony. "Looking a bit pale there, Stevie."

"Even I get some effects from losing this much blood," said Steve.

"Come on Stars and Stripes, back to the Quinjet for you until we can persuade the Hulk to leave his new toy alone," said Tony. "You might as well sign off, Clint. You've done all you can from there and Bruce will be annoyed if we let you stay up past your bedtime."

"Screw you, Tony," replied Clint. "It's early evening."

"I know, but I'd have to be deaf not to hear you yawning, so get off the coms and take a nap. We'll be back in a couple of hours after we've taken care of the clean-up and Natasha's signed the SHIELD paperwork in triplicate," said Tony.

"Don't think you're getting away without doing your fair share, Tony. How's your temperature looking, Clint?" asked Natasha.

"It's a little high, but not very," replied Clint. "Don't worry, I'm just lying on the sofa chatting to some friends. Not doing anything at all that would stress me."

"Ha ha," replied Natasha. "Take the pain pills if you need them, and then do what Tony says and take a nap."

Clint sighed, running a hand through his hair. Tony was right, he was tired. "Okay, Hawkeye signing off. See you when you get home."

He shut down the laptop that he'd been using and placed it on the table beside the sofa. He eyed the bottle of painkillers and considered whether he needed to take some now or if he'd be better waiting until later. He could feel the beginning of a new headache behind his eyes, so he decided that if he wanted to sleep then he needed to take the pills now. He downed a couple with some water and settled himself down on the sofa to nap. It didn't take him long to fall asleep, because even though he hated admitting it to anyone, the disease was kicking his ass and he was worn out. He needed all the sleep he could get at the moment whilst he fought it off.

He didn't know how long he slept for, but he was awoken by a noise. At first he assumed that it was the team returning from dealing with the attempted prison break, but there didn't appear to be anyone in the Common Room with him.

"Guys?" he asked the empty room. There was no reply and he hadn't really expected one.

The red display on the table beside the sofa told him that his temperature was rising again. That explained why he was feeling worse now than when he'd fallen asleep. The clock told him that he'd been asleep for just under an hour and a half, so the other Avengers were due back in a little while.

"Jarvis, is there anyone on the Avengers floors apart from me?"

"No, sir."

Clint blinked, there was something in his peripheral vision. He turned in time to see a black smoke descend from the nearest air vent. He was on his feet in seconds, which he immediately regretted when his body told him pointedly that it was still suffering from a fever. His legs almost buckled and it was only sheer force of will that kept him moving towards his nearest weapon cache. He was pretty glad now that he hadn't told Steve to remove the ones in the Common Room.

He got to the sideboard and reached behind it to find nothing. Where his backup bow should have been was a piece of paper. He plucked the piece of paper from where it was stuck to the sideboard to see it was a note. In handwriting that he knew all too well was written: 'See me to get your bow back. NR.' There was a small stylised hourglass beside the initials.

"Damn it, 'Tasha," muttered Clint. He pushed sweat out of his eyes with a swipe of his hand. "Damn fever." He was finding it hard to focus properly, and his hands trembled with feverish shivers.

The smoke was coalescing into a shape. It now resembled a man with glowing red eyes. This was very bad. He needed back-up.

"Jarvis, put a call through to Iron Man. There's something in the Tower," said Clint.

"I am attempting to relay your message, Agent Barton, but communications appear to be down. I also still don't detect anyone else on the Avengers floors," said Jarvis.

"You can't see that?" asked Clint, looking directly at the now man-shaped smoky entity that was walking towards him, across the room. Clint was backing up towards the exit to the stairs, but keeping his eyes on the thing in front of him.

"No, sir," replied Jarvis.

The smoke man suddenly shot towards him and Clint dodged, falling through the doors into the stairwell. He needed weapons and there was one place where he was guaranteed to find them: Tony's lab. He moved as quickly as his ailing body would let him, jumping down the stairs two at a time and got down most of the first flight of stairs before the smoke caught up with him. The entity slammed into Clint and the two of them rolled down the last three steps to the lab floor.

Clint groaned. The smoke was in human form again and pinning him down to the ground. "You're pretty solid for a smoke monster," he said aiming a punch at the coalescing head of his foe.

"I'm not a monster!" shouted out the thing, in a voice that sounded like it was made of nails, gravel and razor blades. "My name is Smoke!"

Clint's punch connected for a second before disappearing in a haze of black smoke. Suddenly he was free and he rolled out of the entity's grip. He pushed himself to his feet, scrambling forwards half on his hands and knees to get through the doors to the floor.

"Jarvis, lock down the lab floor!" he shouted.

"Yes, sir," replied the AI.

Clint pushed himself up using the wall as support. He was bruised from his tumble down the stairs and his body was protesting the movement. Natasha was probably going to kill him when she found out what he'd been up to instead of resting, assuming that Smokey didn't get him first. He only had to get down the corridor to the lab and then he could get to the latest experimental bow that Tony had been working on and the arrows that went with it.

Clint looked back towards the doors from the stairs and could see the beginnings of black smoke seeping under the door. Of course the door wouldn't stop this creature, but Clint had hoped that it might be enough to slow it down a little. It didn't seem to have worked particularly well. He willed his aching body to go the few steps it needed to get to Tony's lab. He hit the button for the door and collapsed onto the floor of the lab.

"Jarvis, lock down Stark's lab! Full seals!"

"Yes, sir," replied Jarvis.

Clint would have loved to just stay lying on the floor, looking up at the ceiling, but he needed to persuade himself to get moving again. The aches in his limbs were building and he knew his fever was rising again.

"Why can't I have a normal life and get to lie in bed when I'm ill?" he muttered to himself as he rolled onto his front. "Oh yeah, because Avengers don't get to do that kind of thing." He got himself onto all fours and then used a lab bench to get himself upright again. He began searching the lab for the new bow.

"Any idea where Tony keeps his latest bow designs, Jarvis?" asked Clint, as he lent against a bench for support. He was drenched in sweat and breathing hard. He wasn't sure how he was staying on his feet, and was pretty sure he didn't have long before the fever got the best of him again.

There was the sound of something slamming into the door. Through the toughened glass, Clint could see that the black fog appeared to have thickened. It was throwing itself at the door.

"Try the cabinet to your left, Agent Barton," said Jarvis.

Clint opened the metal cabinet and found Tony's latest version of his bow resting on its stand.

"Thank you, Jarvis," said Clint, with feeling.

"You will find arrows in the drawer at the base of the cabinet," added the AI.

Clint gave him quick smile at the camera for anticipating his wishes and collected up several arrows.

"Any luck getting through to Iron Man?"

"No, Agent Barton. I should alert you to the fact that your temperature is now 38.9˚C. You should return to bed at the earliest opportunity."

"Not really an option with that thing out there," said Clint.

"I am still unable to detect anything on sensors," said Jarvis.

The door banged again.

"But you can hear that, right?"

"It would appear to be a malfunction with the door's opening mechanism," said Jarvis.

"Like hell it is," replied Clint, with his eyes on the door.

Clint shook his head, nocking an arrow. He felt the weight of the new bow in his hands. Tony was getting pretty good at balancing the weapons he made for Clint. This one looked like it was going to be a joy to use, but it was still a new bow and would take him a couple of shots to get used to. The arrows were tipped with a slightly differently coloured metal and reminded Clint of the Adamantium tips that he'd used to help take down the Red Skull's squid tank a few months ago. If they were the same as those, then he had some serious stopping power in his hands now. It probably wasn't going to work against a cloud of gas though.

"Come on, think Barton. Think." His brain didn't want to think. It wanted him to pass out and lie shivering in a corner, but that would probably result in his death. He couldn't let the other Avengers walk into this with no warning either. He needed a plan. Then it came to him.

"Jarvis, can you reverse the air conditioning in the corridor? To suck out poisonous gasses or something? Tony must have thought of that, right?"

"Yes, Agent Barton, but only in the lab that you are currently in," said Jarvis.

"And you still can't see this thing?" asked Clint.

"Unfortunately not, Agent Barton," said Jarvis.

Clint sighed. "Okay, on my mark, open the doors. Close them and put the seals on again when I tell you. As soon as they're closed, start sucking the air out of the room. I'll let you know when you can stop."

"There is a chance that you will be unconscious at that point," said Jarvis. "This system is not supposed to be used without breathing apparatus."

"First time for everything, Jarvis. If I pass out before this thing is gone then I'm probably dead anyway. Ready?"

"Yes, sir," said Jarvis.

Clint placed himself at the back of the lab with line of sight on the door. He put all his strength into drawing the new bow, but knew he couldn't hold it for long. "Mark."

The door slid open and the black smoke rushed in, straight for Clint's position. He let loose the arrow. "Close the doors! Seals on."

The arrow passed through the smoky form and just made it out into the corridor as the doors closed. The reaction it elicited from the creature was somewhat unexpected. Clint hadn't really dared hope for the arrow being anything more than a distraction. Instead the creature screamed the scream of a wounded banshee. It even seemed to be having trouble coalescing around the area where it had been shot.

Jarvis turned the air flow to reverse and suddenly the creature was being sucked up towards the ceiling. It attempted to transform into its more opaque form but Clint nocked another arrow and sent it flying into the creature's centre. It clearly hurt it and was probably enough to prevent it from reforming easily. A third arrow followed the second, but Clint's arms were like jelly now. He couldn't fire again, he didn't have the strength and the lack of air wasn't helping. He dropped to his knees, still clutching the new bow. The last of Smoke's trailing gasses disappeared into the vents.

"Shut it down," mumbled Clint. A normal person never would have heard him, but Jarvis did and closed the vent seals again, turning the lab back onto its own supply of air.

"Agent Barton, your breathing, pulse and heart beat are suboptimal."

"Tell me something I don't know," said Clint, his voice quiet and thin. He edged his way closer to the wall so that he could lean his back against it. "I'll be fine. No need to call anyone. I just need some sleep and I'll be fine."

His bow was still clutched in his hands with a final arrow nocked, ready to go, but he wouldn't be needing it now. As his grip relaxed, the bow and arrow rolled out of his grasp until they lay beside him on the floor. Clint closed his eyes and passed out.


	7. Chapter 7

About to Blink

AN: Reviewers, you are awesome, awesome people and you make my day with your comments.

* * *

The Quinjet landed at Avengers Tower, and Bruce and Steve descended the ramp. Bruce was tired, as was usual after running around as the Hulk for a while, but he doubted if he'd be able to rest until he'd examined Steve's wound properly and checked in on Clint. Steve was clearly in some pain but doing his best to not show it, although Bruce had enough practice with all the Avengers by now to see through their bravado. Natasha was still in the pilot's seat and shutting down the Quinjet's systems, whilst Tony had already landed on the Iron Man landing pad and was having his armour removed.

"Guys," said Tony, in a tone of voice that Bruce had learned to recognise as "I'm about to tell you something you won't like". Bruce noted that Tony was now standing at the doors. "Jarvis says that Clint put the lab floor into lockdown."

Everyone straightened up, going into full alert again. Natasha stopped what she was doing and took out her sidearm.

"Why?" asked Steve.

"Jarvis doesn't know. He says that Clint claimed there was an intruder but he couldn't detect it on his sensors," said Tony. He was stepping back into his armour. Once it had fully enclosed him he jumped down from the landing pad to stand beside Bruce.

Steve reached for his own gun. "Natasha and I will take point. Tony, you're behind us, covering our backs. Bruce, stay here until we've made sure the area's clear."

Bruce didn't need to be told twice. They didn't need the Hulk loose in the Tower. Natasha and Steve moved up to the door, giving each other a nod when they were ready and Natasha had a hand on the door ready to pull it open.

"On my go," said Steve.

He gave Natasha a small nod and she pulled the door open. Steve moved inside cautiously. Natasha followed him, Tony bringing up the rear. Bruce watched them sweep the room through the glass of the windows. This was the Common Room floor and where they'd left Hawkeye lying on the sofa.

Natasha came back to the door. "It's clear, but there are some signs that Clint had to leave quickly," she said. She indicated for Bruce to come inside.

The rug and pillows that had been on the sofa were now strewn on the ground, and there was evidence of some things being moved on the sideboard.

"He went for his backup bow," said Natasha, looking at a piece of paper that she had picked up from the sideboard. "But I'd already moved it."

"Jarvis, where's Clint now?" asked Tony.

"In your lab, sir," said Jarvis.

"My lab? Oh, of course, that's the nearest weaponry," said Tony.

"Come on, he may need backup," said Steve.

Natasha and Steve headed down the stairs, cautiously but quickly, and got to the lab floor, whilst Tony hovered down gently on his repulsors. This time Bruce followed them at a safe distance. If Clint was injured, then he might be needed to tend to him. He may not be a full medical doctor, but he was still pretty good at patching up the Avengers when required.

Natasha hit the button for access to the lab floor.

"It's locked," said the Russian. "Jarvis, override Romanoff Avsye Six Six Six Cognitive Recalibration."

"Really? That's your pass phrase to undo Clint's lockdown? What would you say if it was mine? Actually, I don't think I want to know," said Bruce. "All my pass phrases are kind of dull."

"Of course they are," said Tony. "That's because you're too busy repressing your inner monster to have fun."

Part of Clint's security plan for the Tower included every Avenger having pass phrases and codes which varied depending on who had put the lockdown into effect. Jarvis's voice recognition meant that no one could fake the codes, and if an Avenger gave the wrong code for the person, an alert would be sent out to SHIELD for help. It meant that if someone tried to force an Avenger to undo a lockdown that they'd implemented, there was a way for them to use a coded transmission for help. The protocol also put a few other things into effect, like automatically turning on video and audio feeds at SHIELD headquarters.

The door opened and they could see down the corridor.

"Is that an arrow sticking out of my wall?" asked Tony.

"Yes, which either means the impossible happened or something stopped Clint from hitting his target," said Natasha.

Tony pulled the arrow from the wall. "He found the new Adamantium tipped ones that I just made for him. It looks like we missed the battle."

Tony hit the door release to his lab and like the other doors, it failed to open. "Really, Cupid? Double lockdown? Okay. Jarvis, override Stark Alpha Seven Five Nine No Playtime for Hawkeye."

"Did everyone pick better pass phrases than me?" asked Bruce.

"Yes," said Steve.

The doors opened and Natasha and Steve did the sweep of the room. It was then that Bruce saw Natasha's expression change.

"Damn it, Clint," said Natasha, heading for the furthest wall of the lab, an area which Tony usually used for ranged weapons testing. She was putting her gun away as she walked. Bruce followed her gaze and saw Clint slumped on the floor.

"Oh hell," said Bruce and headed across the room too. "Jarvis, what's Clint's temperature?"

"39.2˚C, Doctor Banner," said Jarvis.

"That is way too high," said Tony.

"I've got two more arrows over here," said Steve. Bruce glanced up to see that he was looking at a pair of them, embedded in the wall opposite.

Natasha had crouched down beside Clint and was checking him for injuries, whilst Bruce took his pulse. Clint's skin was clammy to the touch and his pulse was fast. Bruce could feel how warm he was. There was a bow on the ground beside him, and a handful of arrows that hadn't been fired.

"Anything?" asked Bruce, looking up at Natasha.

"Some bruising, but nothing life threatening," said Natasha.

"Okay, we need to get him off the floor and into bed. The fever's back and we have to get his temperature down again," said Bruce.

Clint groaned, and his eyes flickered open for a second. "'Tasha, Bruce. Is it gone? How did you get it out?"

"What are you talking about Clint?" asked Natasha.

"Smoke," said Clint, hazily, blinking. "Smoke monster."

Natasha exchanged a look with Bruce. Clearly she thought that Clint was delusional again from the fever and Bruce was inclined to agree.

"It's gone," said Bruce. "It was gone when we got here. Come on, we need to get you back to bed."

"Okay," said Clint, but showed no sign of moving on his own.

"I'll carry him," said Steve.

"Not with that bad arm," said Bruce. "I think Natasha and I have got him."

"I'll do it," said Tony. "Don't worry, I'll be careful."

Bruce and Natasha stepped back and let Tony gently collect Clint up from the floor so that he was laid across Tony's armoured arms.

"How the hell did he draw his bow in this state?" said Tony. "How the hell did he even make it down here?"

"I have no idea," said Steve. "He told me adrenaline was powerful stuff… We need to know what happened here."

"I'll get Jarvis to pull the video feeds," said Tony.

"First of all, we have to get Clint settled back in his apartment," said Bruce. "We'll probably need to keep an eye on him until his fever breaks again."

"I'll sit with him," said Natasha. "I know I can take him down if he tries anything stupid."

"Hopefully this won't last more than twenty-four hours," said Bruce. "But it isn't supposed to be this high either. Then again if he'd been resting maybe it wouldn't be this high."

"Couldn't let the smoke monster get me," murmured Clint. "Or you."

"Yeah, smoke monsters, a menace to society," said Tony. "I'm sure you showed it who was boss."

Tony carried Clint to his apartment, where Bruce and Natasha put the archer to bed. He was shivering and pale again by the time this had been accomplished. Tony headed back down to the lab so that he could start examining the footage of whatever had happened to Clint.

Natasha found an extra blanket, and Bruce persuaded their patient to take some painkillers, then he drew some more blood, just to be on the safe side. He wanted to check that the unusually high temperature wasn't signalling a transition to the more serious Dengue Shock Syndrome, but it still seemed most likely that Clint had just over exerted himself. However, this was now the danger period, so he needed to be vigilant. Clint was so exhausted that he didn't even notice Bruce sticking the needle in his arm.

"Do you mind if I take this down to the lab and get it analysed?" Bruce asked Natasha, when he had a full vial.

She shook her head. She was sitting on the bed beside her partner now, clasping his hand in her own. "We'll be fine on our own and I only have to shout if any problems develop."

Clint's shivers were lessening slightly and he seemed to be sleeping soundly. These were generally good signs, so Bruce nodded.

"Okay, I'll be as quick as I can but I just want to make sure I'm not missing something."

Natasha picked up a StarkPad from Clint's bedside table and began flicking through the contents with her free hand. "We'll be fine. Go."

Bruce got the message so headed back down to the labs, passing the open door to Tony's lab on the way. He remembered that he needed to check the dressing on Steve's arm, and now that Clint was in bed and resting, he had some time.

"What's the verdict?" he asked as he walked in, and towards Steve.

"I think Legolas may have hallucinated the entire thing," said Tony, now free of his armour. "Jarvis has no record of an intruder, he didn't pick anything up on the bio scanners and we didn't even get anything on the video feeds."

"We did get a hell of a lot of static though," said Steve. "You can just make out Clint in some of the video, but we can't see what he shot at. Doesn't that seem just a little coincidental to you?"

"It's electromagnetic interference. In language that you understand, Capsicle, that means it's other technology in the Tower sending out unwanted signals. There's probably a malfunctioning microwave somewhere," said Tony. "The interference is around for a while before Clint decided to take his walk and the cameras, and coms, are still misbehaving. It's probably just bad timing, but I'll track down the source and make sure. Even my tech isn't immune to occasional problems."

"Hopefully when Clint's feeling better, he can tell us what happened himself," said Bruce.

"I hope so," said Steve. "Because all we know right now is that he got up, went downstairs, locked down the lab floor, locked down Tony's lab, found a bow and some arrows and fired three of them."

"That's not quite all. He asked for full seals according to Jarvis," said Tony. "The lab was on its own air supply, and look at these logs. He was expelling the air from in here. Jarvis used the fire suppression and noxious gas protocols, until Clint told him to shut it down."

Bruce frowned. "Why would he do that?"

"Maybe to get rid of the "smoke monster" he was muttering about?" asked Tony. "Who knows? I don't pretend to understand Clint's mind when he's "normal", let alone feverish. Look, let's face it. Clint was probably chasing his imagination and he's not even going to remember this when he wakes up."

"I'm not so sure," said Steve. "He sounded fine over the com link."

"But he said that his temperature was going up…" said Tony.

"He also said he was going to sleep," said Steve.

"Exactly, and we all know that Clint has trouble sleeping, and when he does sleep he gets nightmares. Okay, so they've been getting better, but who knows what happened to him in Pakistan," said Tony. "He's spent years working for an organisation that actually has plans for what happens when there's an alien invasion. God only knows what he's seen in that time. For all we know, smoke monsters are a real thing and Hawkeye's fought them, and this is his boiled brain reliving past battles. In my lab, whilst making holes in my wall with his arrows."

Bruce shrugged, his eyes catching Tony's for a second. "You might have a point, but we should wait and see what Clint says. Steve, I need to take a proper look at that shoulder. I can do it here or you can come up to the Infirmary. And I don't want to hear that "it's fine" or "it doesn't hurt" because I know that both of those are lies."

Steve let out a long sigh. "I guess I'm done here. There's not much more that we can learn until Clint wakes up and gives us his side."

"I think I just said that," said Tony. "Now get out of my lab. Apparently I have a malfunction in the Tower's electrical supply to find."

Bruce knew when Tony needed some alone time, so he and Steve headed for the Infirmary just as the AC/DC started up.

* * *

Steve's shoulder hurt, it hurt a lot, but there had been things to do, so he'd ignored it. He sat on the bed in the Infirmary while Bruce gently undid the bandages. The wound had bled through these and they were now spotted with red in the pattern of Copperhead's teeth.

"Ouch," said Bruce, as he uncovered the wound.

"Yeah, you could say that," said Steve. He risked a glance down and saw the ragged edges of the bite mark. It was still bleeding a little and the area around the damage was an angry red. He almost wished that he hadn't looked.

"Natasha did a good job for a field dressing," said Bruce, as he carefully probed the injury. "It looks mostly clean. I guess you can't get tetanus so there's no point asking when your last tetanus booster was. They're deep but not wide so I don't think you're going to need stitches. I'll re-bandage it and it should be fine."

"Thanks," said Steve. He let Bruce work for a few moments before he spoke again. "Do you think Clint was hallucinating?" Bruce gave him a look that he couldn't quite read.

"Do you?" asked the scientist.

"I don't know, but something happened. Could this be a return of his PTSD symptoms? I mean maybe the fever shook a few things loose?" asked Steve.

Bruce shook his head. "I don't remember Loki's army including anything which could be termed a smoke monster. The symptoms don't fit either. His flashbacks were often non-responsive and usually left him disorientated, but very rarely completely unknowing of his surroundings."

Steve was quiet for a moment as he processed this.

Bruce held up the antiseptic and cotton that he was about to use. "Sorry, in advance. This is going to sting, actually probably more than sting." He didn't give Steve time to answer as he applied the antiseptic to the wound.

Steve stifled a hiss of pain. He was Captain America and it was only antiseptic on an injury, he was not going to complain about this in front of a team mate.

"I'll take some of your blood as well, if you don't mind. I'd like to make sure that Copperhead didn't inject anything into the wound with those teeth of his. I'm fairly certain that the super soldier serum would deal with it, but I'd like to be certain."

Steve nodded. "Just make sure you destroy the sample after you've tested it. There are a lot of people out there who'd love to get their hands on a sample of my blood."

"Yeah, mine too," replied Bruce. "I'll be careful."

The physicist finished dressing Steve's wound, drew a small sample of blood and then handed him some large pills to take.

"I'm not sure how long those will last, but hopefully you'll get a few hours respite. There are more if you need them," said Bruce.

"What are they?" asked Steve.

"My own recipe. Captain America strength painkillers, so don't let anyone else try them. All my studying of the super soldier serum means I'm in a unique position to have a go at creating something that might actually work for longer than ten minutes on your metabolism," said Bruce.

Steve gave him a questioning look.

"Don't worry, I tested them. They're safe," said Bruce.

"Who exactly did you test them on?"

"Myself," said Bruce. "And before you say anything, I did testing on mice before I tried them on me. Didn't have much effect on my twisted gamma metabolism, but I'd say that you'll get pain relief and maybe a little drowsiness. Jarvis also ran extensive simulations, based on everything that we know about your metabolism and Erskine's serum. After DC I realised that you may be Captain America, but there's still always a chance that you'll get injured seriously in the field and we need some way to relieve pain. I'm working on a stronger version to use if we ever have to put you under for surgery, although obviously, I'm hoping we never need it."

Steve had no idea how to feel about this. Apparently Bruce had been working on this for a while, and he was sort of touched by the idea that the Doctor had done this for him. He downed the pills with the glass of water that Bruce handed him, before his brain had time to catch up with the "tested on the Hulk" part of what he'd just taken.

"If you experience any side effects, let me know immediately," said Bruce. "We're still on new ground when it comes to the way your body processes drugs. Anyway, I've got your blood and a new sample from Clint to analyse, so I'll be in my lab if anyone needs me."

Steve hopped down from the bed and carefully pulled his uniform back over his injured shoulder. "Okay, let me know if you find anything interesting in either. I'm going to pay Clint a visit." He paused. "And thanks for the painkillers, I appreciate the time it took you to come up with something."

Bruce waved off the thanks, but there was a small smile there.

Steve went via his own apartment for a change of clothes before he stopped in to see Clint. His uniform was going to need a serious patch job to make it serviceable again, not to mention a wash to remove the blood. He shoved it into the washing machine before he left his apartment and headed upstairs.

Clint was still sleeping when he arrived, although not terribly deeply. Natasha was sat on the bed, at his side. He stood quietly in the doorway for a moment, watching the two interact and not wanting to interrupt.

"We've got to get out of here. Take down Cortez before he gets to us," Clint muttered. "Natasha, no."

"I'm right here, Clint," said Natasha, calmly. "Where do you think you are?"

"Brazil? Aren't we in Brazil?" He cracked an eye to look up at Natasha. "We're not in Brazil are we? It's so hot here."

"We're in Avengers Tower in New York. It feels hot because you have a fever."

Clint nodded, sleepily. His light brown hair was darkened and damp with sweat. "Makes sense. Cortez is dead."

"Yeah, we got him," said Natasha. "Go back to sleep."

Clint's eyes closed again, and Natasha pulled the blankets up around him again. Steve was feeling a bit like he was intruding on something personal, so he decided that there was at least one way he could be useful. He went to the kitchen in Clint's apartment and made two cups of coffee. This was complicated by Clint having a fancy new coffee maker that Tony had recently installed and it took Steve a little time to work out how to work it. He gave in and asked Jarvis, who gave him some very simple and clear instructions on what was required to get coffee out of the thing. With his mission accomplished he returned to the bedroom with two cups of coffee in his hands.

"How's he doing?" Steve asked quietly, as he walked in.

"About as expected," said Natasha. She accepted the cup of coffee gratefully.

Clint murmured something in his sleep. It sounded to Steve like a language that wasn't English. Natasha seemed to be listening intently for a moment.

"What language is that?" asked Steve.

"Aqirian," said Natasha. "Clint's fluent but I don't speak much of it."

"Where's Aqiria?"

"Between Iraq and Saudi Arabia. It's a tiny country, but causes more than its fair share of trouble. It's home to at least one of the major Maggia houses, and Clint seems to think it's fun to tangle with them on a regular basis," said Natasha.

"Maggia?" asked Steve.

"Sort of like the Mafia, only with a penchant for finding and using illegal technology, and they prefer to keep their name a secret. There are four major houses and a few minor ones, plus some wannabes." Natasha shrugged.

"Do you know what he's saying?" asked Steve.

"I can't tell you," said Natasha, taking a sip of the coffee.

"You didn't understand it?"

"It's classified," said Natasha.

"I'm SHIELD now. We've gone on missions together for Fury," said Steve.

"I know, but some things are still classified," replied Natasha.

Steve shook his head at the implied distrust. "I don't suppose you can tell me what he was doing in Pakistan either?"

"Pakistan?" asked Natasha, with a frown. "When was he in Pakistan?"

"That was where his last mission was," said Steve.

"Did Clint tell you that?"

"Tony located his flight data in the SHIELD database," said Steve.

Natasha's frown deepened.

"You don't think he was in Pakistan?"

"It seems unlikely," said Natasha.

"Want to enlighten me on that one?"

"Because, if Fury has us both in the same place, then we're usually working together," replied Natasha. "I was in Pakistan."

"Something else to ask him when he wakes up," said Steve.


	8. Chapter 8

About to Blink

AN: I take a few liberties with some comic book canon in this chapter, but I reckon it's all fair game at this point with the movies changing all sorts of stuff. Aqiria is a Marvel creation, but there isn't much info about it in the comics. And as always, I did my best to get my medical facts right, but I'm not a doctor or a virologist. If you are one and I'm totally, totally wrong on something, let me know in a review.

* * *

Bruce found nothing that shouldn't be there in Steve's blood. It was an interesting analysis but that was only because Steve had a unique metabolism. As requested, he destroyed the blood sample after he'd confirmed his results. He added a note to Steve's medical file about the injury and sent Steve a text message to let him know that he was in the clear. He also reminded him to request more painkillers if they were required, even though he was almost certain that Steve wouldn't take him up on that.

However, Clint's blood was an entirely different matter. A lot of tests for Dengue fever would come back negative in the early stages, but the antigen test that he'd run had a ninety per cent change of returning a positive test during the fever stage if the Dengue virus was present. He'd used the positive result to make his diagnosis, and that wasn't in question, but he wanted to dot the i's and cross the t's.

Now Clint's illness had progressed he could do a PCR and sequence the DNA of the virus. This would help him determine the serotype of the virus. Viruses usually had several serotypes, which could be seen as sort of like what species were to larger animals, and in Dengue Fever some of them were associated with the severe version of the virus and others weren't. He wanted to make sure that he had a heads up if Clint was about to go downhill again. If he could identify the serotype then it might help him.

The problem was that he couldn't identify the serotype. Dengue had five serotypes, that shared 65% of their DNA and had caused every single known case of Dengue Fever ever documented. If he'd just identified a sixth serotype then he had a momentous medical discovery on his hands, and it might explain the slightly different symptoms that Clint was experiencing. His fever was a lot higher than a regular second febrile stage was supposed to be.

Bruce wasn't an expert in virology and this needed a more thorough analysis. Something wasn't right with this virus, but he couldn't work out what it was. He decided that it was worth calling up SHIELD and getting them to use their better equipped labs to look into it.

He was just finishing off labelling all the samples when Tony wandered into the lab, as usual ignoring the closed door and not bothering to knock.

"So, I can't track down an electrical fault anywhere in the Tower," said Tony.

"Huh," said Bruce, noncommittally.

"I was expecting something more helpful," said Tony, sitting himself on the spare stool and spinning around on it.

"Electrical systems aren't really my area of expertise. That would be more yours. I suppose you checked the arc reactor?"

"The arc reactor doesn't go wrong. It's a flawless piece of engineering. I know because I personally supervised its construction and installation," said Tony.

"And you have one in your chest," said Bruce. "It keeps you alive."

This was tantamount to deliberately picking a fight with his friend. Tony had told him about his plan to get rid of his arc reactor from his chest when he first returned to the Tower, and Bruce had disapproved. Tony had then proceeded to go ahead with his plan anyway, designed a procedure for operating within a magnetic field, and started looking for doctors. Bruce hadn't expected anything less, because this was Tony Stark, and Tony generally did what he wanted.

"Not for much longer," said Tony, suddenly halting his spin. "I think I've found a doctor that will remove the shrapnel."

Bruce's one hope had been that Tony wouldn't be able to find anyone willing to perform the procedure but it seemed that was a lost cause.

"You know what I think about this plan, so I have no idea why you're even telling me that. You're going to be risking your life to deal with a problem that you've already found a solution to," said Bruce.

"I don't want to spend the rest of my life with an arc reactor keeping me alive," said Tony. "This thing nearly killed me. If you didn't hear about the Palladium poisoning then you're the only person who didn't get the memo apparently."

Bruce stopped what he was doing for a moment, just so that he could turn his full attention to Tony. "You showed me your x-rays. The ones that you had done after you got back from Afghanistan. The doctors told you then that it would be pretty much impossible to remove every single piece of shrapnel without permanently damaging the heart muscle. I'd agree with that assessment. If it hadn't been for the arc reactor then you'd be dead already. I don't see what's changed, other than your sudden desire to be rid of it."

"It's just different now. Medical technology has moved on a bit since my delightful sojourn in an Afghani cave," said Tony. "What I'm suggesting wouldn't have been possible when I first got back."

"I've seen the outline of your procedure, and it could work, but the hard part is always going to be tracking down all the pieces of shrapnel. It's worse now some time has passed because your body has healed around some of the pieces, and if they miss even one…" Bruce just left that hanging.

"I understand the risks, but I don't want to go through life with this… thing… keeping me alive," he gave the glowing blue light in his chest a tap. "And if we're going to talk medical files, you know that if I get a cold it hits me harder and lasts long. Last year I had pneumonia. Pneumonia, Bruce. That's something that old people get, and people that are already sick."

"Well, not always…" Bruce began, but Tony cut him off.

"The point is that it was the arc reactor screwing up my lungs that did it. I can't cough as well as a normal person, so when I get a cold, it hangs around. If Loki had picked that week to invade then we'd have been screwed because I'd have had a temperature as high our archer friend's," said Tony, with a gesture in the rough direction of Clint's apartment.

"If you'd taken the antibiotics when you were supposed to then it wouldn't have progressed to pneumonia," said Bruce. Tony just raised his eyebrows at him having this knowledge. "You gave me your file, so I took the time to read all of it."

"Remind me not to give you personal information about myself in file form ever again," said Tony.

"Have you told Pepper about this yet?" asked Bruce.

"No," said Tony. "Not until I'm certain that I've got it all set up and ready to go."

"She's your partner, Tony. You should be discussing this with her, not me."

"I just need both of us to be in a bit more stable frame of mind," said Tony.

Bruce just gave him a look.

Tony rolled his eyes.

"Okay, I'll tell her. Just give me a little time to find the right moment," said Tony.

"I suppose you're aware of the recovery time for a serious operation like this? You won't be able to be Iron Man for a few months," said Bruce.

"Weeks," said Tony. "I heal quickly." He paused a moment, suddenly apparently finding his hands extremely interesting. "Bruce, I'm going to do this with or without your approval, but I'd really like your support. And I could use your help when it comes to selecting the surgery team."

Tony's eyes met Bruce's for a second and he could see that Tony needed this. Bruce sighed. Tony had become a good friend, and his friend was asking for help in what would be a difficult undertaking. He couldn't deny him this.

"Send me the names that you're thinking about, and I'll take a look at them," said Bruce. "And I'm surprised that you have to even ask for my support. I may not agree with what you're about to do, but you know I'll help you through it. Now, I've got to get these blood samples off to SHIELD. Their courier should be here soon."

"Blood samples to SHIELD? Are they Hawkeye's? Did you find something else wrong?" asked Tony, the questions coming quickly, and the billionaire approached Bruce's bench to get a closer look at the tests. Bruce could hear the concern in his voice, even if Tony hadn't intended for it to be there.

"I don't think it's anything to worry about," said Bruce. "It's just that the PCR on the virus came back with some strange results. I'm just covering all the bases. I probably wouldn't bother if this wasn't Hawkeye."

"But it's Hawkeye," reiterated Tony.

"And he works for SHIELD, an organisation which as you so eloquently put it "has plans for what happens when aliens invade". We really need to find out what he was up to," said Bruce.

Tony didn't hesitate to nod in agreement.

"All this spy stuff is so annoying, and Fury's improved his security so I can't even hack in until I've broken it again."

"I'm sure you'll figure it out," said Bruce.

"Yes, but it's the time that it's going to take me that I'm annoyed about. Anyway, Steve and Natasha seem to be planning a slumber party down in Clint's apartment. I'm going down to join them, once I've checked in on Pepper," said Tony.

"I wouldn't expect his fever to break until tomorrow morning at the earliest," said Bruce, knowing that was the point of the gathering. Clint being delirious with a fever was a dangerous thing, and it was only because he was also weakened by it that they had any chance of keeping him down. "I'm going to keep working here, but I'll look in later."

Tony nodded. He looked like he was going to say something else as he left the lab, but then he closed his mouth and walked away, leaving Bruce to contemplate their conversation.

* * *

Clint's fever took about a day and half to go down enough that he was lucid again. That meant a full thirty-six hours had passed since he fought Smoke. The fever had tired him out and he'd slept a dreamless sleep after his temperature had gone down. But when he jerked himself awake to find Tony sat at the side of his bed, he had no idea exactly how long he'd been unaware.

"Hey there, Legolas," said Tony, putting his StarkPad down on the bedside table. "In case you were about to ask, no I haven't been captured by terrorists and we're not in a cave."

Clint blinked at Tony. "What?" he asked, in a croaky voice.

"We're in the Tower, in your apartment, and this is not Afghanistan," said Tony, pouring a glass of water from the jug on the table. He offered the glass to Clint.

"I know," said Clint. He reached out a shaking hand for the water and Tony passed it to him, but kept his own hand wrapped around Clint's. Clint sipped the water. When he'd finished he tried to get himself into a better sitting position.

"The second verse looks like it kicked your ass, Barton," said Tony. "You'd be better off staying down for a bit."

Clint just gave him a look, and continued his feeble attempt to sit up.

"But of course this is you," said Tony, giving in and helping him. He shoved a couple of extra pillows behind Clint's back for him to lean on.

Now that Clint was upright, he could see that Natasha was snoozing on the couch at the end of his bed. Apparently his condition merited guard duty, or she was worried about the thing that attacked him coming back. His keen hearing also picked up the sounds of the TV on the news channel in his lounge, but turned down low. That told him that Steve was also in his apartment but had probably crashed out on the larger sofa in the living room at some point. He wasn't sure how he felt about having three extra people in his home, even if they were his friends. But this was the kind of thing that seemed to happen in his life now that he was an Avenger, so he might as well just get used to it because he doubted the team were going to stop doing this stuff.

"Did you get it?" Clint asked, once he was settled.

"Get what?" asked Tony.

"The smoke monster. The thing that attacked me."

Tony looked a little surprised by the question. "Clint, that was a fever induced hallucination. We got back from the Fridge and found you, on your own, in my lab. There was no sign of a smoke monster and nothing on the cameras."

"Really?" asked Clint frowning. "It seemed… real. Very real."

"There were some strange anomalies in the electrical systems that I still haven't tracked down yet. They just seemed to disappear a few hours after we got back," said Tony. "I don't know. Maybe a flickering light or something had your brain seeing stuff that wasn't there and your feverish mind created its own little fantasy out of it."

"Or the thing that was here created the anomalies," said Clint. "The fever was on the rise, but I don't think that I was delirious. In fact, I'm sure of it."

Tony gave a shake of his head. "Then why didn't Jarvis detect anything?"

"I don't know," said Clint. "But I do know what I saw. It should have been trapped in the sealed off air system."

"Ah, I purged the system when I undid your overrides on the lab. It's an automatic part of the override, so if there was something in there, it's gone now. But…" said Tony, and his face took on a faraway look.

"But what?"

"There may be a way to pull a residue out of the ducts," said Tony, and then added: "If it really existed… Jarvis, empty out one of the hazmat cleaning bot, and then get it to go through the ducts above my lab. We'll see if it comes up with anything."

"You have a hazmat cleaning bot?" asked Clint.

"You've sat in my lab whilst we've done weapons tests, and you still have to ask me that," said Tony. "If there's anything up there to detect, it'll find it."

Clint threw back the blankets to reveal his pyjamas. "Great, I'll go take a shower and then we can get to the lab."

"I was waiting for this," said Tony, folding his arms across his chest. He unfolded one arm long enough to indicate that Clint should go ahead and give it a try. Then he very clearly sat back to watch.

Clint did his best to push himself up from the bed, but quickly found out why Tony hadn't bothered even trying to stop him. His muscles had no power and ached fiercely. His stubborn streak had him trying it again, but this just left him with even less energy. He gave up with a groan and flopped back on his pillows, to see Tony with a smug look on his face.

"Enjoy the show?" asked Clint, as he lay back against the pillows, breathing hard from even this small exertion. Apparently doing anything more than sitting up was going to require assistance. "A little help?"

"Sorry, you're stuck here for the moment. Bruce said that you can move up to the Common Room lounge again when you feel up to it, but he also said that you should stay in bed until this afternoon. Somehow he knew that you were going to want to be up as soon as you opened your eyes. It's almost like he knows you," said Tony.

Clint groaned again, this time in frustration. He gave Tony one of his best glares.

"Don't look at me like that, we have previous experience with your idea of recovery time, so we're all under orders to make you stay in bed for as long as possible. Sorry, but none of us want to make Bruce mad," said Tony, with a half-smile.

"Did you really just threaten me with the Hulk to keep me in bed?"

"Yes, and I enjoyed doing it," said Tony. He handed Clint a StarkPad and started playing with his phone. "Watch a film, read a book, go back to sleep. I don't care."

A knock on the doorframe interrupted any further conversation. Steve appeared looking a little dishevelled and like he'd slept in the clothes that he was wearing.

"Hey, you're awake. I thought I heard voices," said Steve, as he entered the room. "Bruce wasn't sure if you'd sleep for the rest of the day after your fever went down."

"How long have I been out for?" asked Clint, suddenly aware that it had been early evening when he'd had his run in with the smoke monster and it seemed to be morning now.

Steve checked his watch. "About thirty seven hours. Bruce did look kind of worried at one point but he said you didn't appear to have any of the severe symptoms that he was looking out for, so he reckons you'll make a full recovery. You'll probably need a couple of weeks to get your strength back though."

"I guessed as much," said Clint. "How's your shoulder?"

"Almost healed," said Steve, and gave it a quick rotate to prove it. "The super soldier serum is doing what it's supposed to. It could have been a lot worse if you hadn't pointed Natasha in my direction."

"Someone should wake her, she'll get a bad back sleeping on that couch," said Clint.

"She was up late checking the SHIELD database for anything that matched your description of a "smoke monster"," said Steve.

"So _she_ believed me," said Clint.

"We all believed you," said Tony. "It's not like you'd lie to us, I just think that what you think you saw may have been produced by your fever addled brain playing tricks on you."

"Tony!" said Steve.

"He might be right," said Clint. "Even I can't be certain."

"Actually, I'm wondering if this thing attacking you in the Tower is something to do with your last mission," said Steve.

"How _was_ Pakistan?" asked Tony.

Clint lay back into his pillows, his eyes clouding with puzzlement. "How do you even know that I was in Pakistan? And it's all classified, so I can't talk about any of it to you unless I get permission from Director Fury."

"We know you were in Pakistan because Tony hacked into the agent flight plan logs," said Steve, in a tone that made it clear he didn't approve.

"Hey, you were sick, and Bruce needed to know where you'd been. You weren't in any shape to tell us yourself so I improvised," said Tony.

"But Natasha seems to think that although you flew into Pakistan, you didn't stay there," said Steve. He was giving Clint one of those sincere, questioning looks that he did so well and was almost guaranteed to make Clint give in.

He reached out for the glass of water again and this time took a long sip when Tony passed it to him. His hands still shook as he held the glass, and he wasn't going to acknowledge that Tony's hand was helping to hold it. He hated this weakness and that other people had to take care of him.

"I was in Aqiria," said Clint, realising that he couldn't get away with deflecting anymore. The team didn't deserve that from him anyway. "I didn't want anyone getting wind of a SHIELD connection, so I took the scenic route. I flew from Karachi to Riyadh, then down to Arar and drove across the border. I was posing as a security consultant looking for work."

"Damn it," said Tony. "Fury lied to me."

"You asked him what I was doing in Pakistan?" asked Clint.

"Yeah, I wanted to get a message to Natasha without broadcasting to the whole of SHIELD that you were sick, and he told me you were infiltrating a terrorist cell but the mission didn't go as planned," said Tony.

"Well, he got part of it right," said Clint. "It didn't go as planned. But why are you even surprised that he lied to you?"

"I'm not surprised. He's a spy. Spies do that kind of thing. I just thought that after we saved the world from an alien invasion, he might have upped our clearance level," said Tony.

"I don't think Fury works that way," said Steve.

"I noticed," said Tony.

"But you have a point," said Steve, clearly not happy. "We had a sick team member. It might have been important to know where he'd been. I'll talk to him about some better understandings when it comes to members of the Avengers."

"Good luck with that," said Clint, tiredly. He stifled a yawn.

"So what happened in Aqiria?" asked Tony. "If something attacked this building whilst the rest of us were out, then we should probably rule out the possibility that it was after you. Or connected to whatever you got up to over there." Tony's words were spoken rapidly and Clint's brain took a moment to catch up.

Clint shrugged. He shivered and pulled the blankets closer around himself. "Like I said, it's classified, but there definitely weren't any smoke monsters involved." He saw Tony exchange a look with Steve, and Steve's eyes had flicked down to the thermometer's holographic readout that was shining brightly on the table by the bed. His temperature was still a little higher than normal, but back to something reasonable for a cold rather than a full blown fever.

"Jarvis, could you get Bruce down here," said Tony. He sounded worried, which wasn't really like Tony, but was trying hard to pretend that he wasn't.

"Yes, sir," said Jarvis.

"Something wrong?" asked Clint, as he shivered.

"Probably just my paranoia," said Tony. "Ignore me. My head's in a strange place at the moment."

"Natasha said something about the Maggia," said Steve, dragging everyone back to conversation at hand.

Clint raised his eyebrows. "I'm surprised she even mentioned the name, but yes there was a connection there."

Tony's phone rang. "Pepper. 10am check in. Give me a second." Tony disappeared into the other room for a moment and Clint could hear him say "Polo" in answer to Pepper's "Marco" as he left the room.

"Get 'Tasha to talk to Fury," said Clint. He was cold and tired, and fed up with playing twenty questions. "He can give me permission to read you all in on the mission." Clint closed his eyes, because he couldn't keep them open any longer. "Stupid fever," he murmured.

"Okay, get some sleep. We'll get to the bottom of this," said Steve. "Don't worry about it."

Clint didn't need permission, he was too worn out, but he appreciated the sentiment. He felt himself move into semi-consciousness again and didn't bother to fight the transition to sleep.

* * *

"Dengue fever is just evil," said Tony. He'd been thinking it for a while so saw no reason not to say it when Bruce arrived to check on Clint. "It's been nearly a week since he came down with the first symptoms."

Bruce had given Clint a quick check over and then they'd moved to stand in the lounge of Clint's apartment so that they could talk without disturbing his sleep. Bruce seemed to think their archer was still on the road to recovery, so Tony's nascent panic attack at Clint's shivering and then falling asleep again had been averted. Clint was really triggering all his hyper-protective issues, almost as badly as Pepper deciding to work in her office today – it was only three levels beneath the Avengers' floors, but it felt like miles at the moment. He had her checking in every hour to be on the safe side.

Natasha had awoken just after Bruce arrived and was in the kitchen making herself a late breakfast, while she spoke to Fury on her phone. The small clinks of knives and coffee cups could be heard through the doorway, along with her muffled voice, all professionalism and sirs. It was making Tony a little hungry and very curious.

"It could be a hell of a lot worse," said Bruce.

"I know, I know," replied Tony.

"I'm pretty sure that there's no point in trying to make him stay in bed after this afternoon," said Bruce. "I'd rather he rested up a bit more, but he's never liked being confined to bed. He'll rest better if he's occupied."

"Understatement," said Natasha, wandering into the room with a plate of toast covered with peanut butter and a glass of orange juice. "We need to restock Clint's kitchen, he's got coffee, peanut butter, a box of Cheerios and a carton of orange juice in his cupboards. I'm eating the last of his bread."

Steve sighed. "We've all been eating in the Common Room kitchen. I don't think I've got much in my kitchen either."

In general the Avengers ate huge amounts of junk food, so Tony (really Jarvis) kept the Common Room cupboards permanently stocked with foods high in sugar and fat. They also got through large amounts of pasta and other things high in carbohydrates. With super metabolisms to deal with, they needed food that gave them a lot of energy and even those without super metabolism spent a lot of time just being active and burning calories. Tony had been one of the more healthy eaters in the group, and had been sort of surprised to find that even Clint and Natasha survived on a diet of fast food and sugary snacks.

"We should get him some cans of soup or something else light," said Bruce. "He'll hopefully start feeling hungry now that he's climbing out the other side, but his stomach won't be up to much to begin with."

"He's going to want his roof access back," said Natasha, around a bite of toast.

"He can have it back when he's not at risk of falling off it," said Tony. "Can you imagine the kind of publicity that I'd get from an Avenger falling off my roof? In the meantime, he can sit on the terrace like the rest of us, or sunbathe on the helipad, for all I care."

Natasha just raised her eyebrows and gave Tony one of her best incredulous looks. Tony knew perfectly well that Clint was probably part spider-monkey somewhere down in the depths of his DNA, and the idea of him falling off anything, at least when he was healthy, was pretty much unthinkable. Unless an explosion was involved, and then falling off a building was perfectly reasonable as long as Iron Man was there to catch him. However, Tony couldn't shake the need to protect his team, so Clint's roof access wasn't getting unlocked for a while.

Tony's brain had already begun thinking up new ways of keeping his team members safe, and he felt an itch to get to his lab so that he could work on some new ideas. He'd been thinking about creating an Iron Man suit for Pepper so that she wouldn't have to make do with his next time terrorists attacked. Steve, Natasha and Clint could all do with better body armour, and although none of them would want to wear actual armour like his suit, he might have a few alternatives that he could look into. He was pulled from that line of thought by Steve's next question, because his brain was reminding him that it also wanted some answers from a certain Director of SHIELD.

"What did Fury say?" asked Steve, wisely changing the subject.

"He said that he'll give us clearance to know about Hawkeye's last mission, but it's up to Clint to give us the story. Apparently Crossfire is involved," said Natasha.

"Crossfire? What's a Crossfire?" asked Tony.

"A who, not a what. Crossfire is the codename for William Cross, a mercenary that's been working for the Maggia. He and Clint have similar skill sets and have gone up against each other before. He's no match for Clint's marksmanship, but he's still highly trained and has the resources of the Maggia behind him." Natasha tapped on her phone for a second, and then transferred the picture to the huge television in Clint's lounge. It showed a man in a combat gear with dark red accents on it, and holding a rifle. "That's him. He and Clint last met in Hong Kong."

Something fired in the back of Tony's memory. His mind took him back to a rather strange variant on the game of Geography that he'd heard Natasha and Clint playing whilst the archer had been laid up in the SHIELD medical bay at Puente Antiguo.

"Hang on, that wouldn't be the time that he nearly died in Hong Kong, would it? Then checked himself out of hospital AMA?" asked Tony.

Natasha looked a little surprised. "Good memory. Yes, that would be the time. We hadn't even realised that Crossfire was there. We had some bad intel. Clint had gone in undercover, but the op was blown when Crossfire recognised him. I couldn't get to him before they took him down. They decided to get rid of the evidence and Clint at the same time. They planted a bomb in their base of operations and left Clint there, unconscious and tied to a chair. He only just got out in time, but got hit by debris from the blast as he was escaping. His injuries were extensive, and it was just as well that I was already searching for him."

"So Clint was looking for a rematch in Aqiria?" asked Steve.

"Perhaps," said Natasha. "Crossfire has been on SHIELD's wanted list for some time now. Clint would love to be the one to take him down."

"Sir, the hazmat bot has finished its sweep," said Jarvis.

"Great, anything to report," said Tony, fully expecting to be told that it had found a colony of dust puppies but nothing else.

"The robot reports the presence of an unrecognised substance. Electromagnetic radiation appears to be interfering with its sensors," said Jarvis. "It would seem that a manual analysis will be required."

Tony just stood speechless for a moment. "Okay, you might as well take note of this, because it doesn't happen that often." He held his hands up. "Tony Stark was wrong. Birdbrain wasn't seeing things, there really was something in the building, and I guess it may, possibly, have been a smoke monster."

Unfortunately his brain then reinterpreted what he'd just said, made a few unwanted connections and suddenly Tony was fumbling for his phone and his heart was beating too rapidly. "Oh god, that thing got into the Tower."

He needed to call Pepper and check on her, but he couldn't catch his breath. He could hear the blood rushing and thumping in his ears as his heart tried to beat itself out of his body. He dropped his phone, and his legs nearly gave up supporting him, but someone strong was helping him to stand. Then he was being ushered towards the sofa and Bruce was talking quietly to him, telling him everything was okay. Someone else had his phone, Natasha, and she was calling someone and talking quickly. Then she was holding it to his ear, because he could barely breathe at the moment, holding anything was well beyond him.

Pepper's voice was on the phone. "Tony, I'm okay. I'm downstairs in the office. I've got security right here with me. I'm fine and you're fine too. Now listen to Bruce and take some slow breaths. I'll be there as soon as can, I'm stepping out of the office now and into the elevator."

Pepper was safe. It helped to know that.

Tony nodded as Pepper talked and did his best to think calming thoughts, like the fact that Steve was sitting beside him. Captain America was right there, helping to stop him from keeling over from lack of oxygen. Bruce, the Hulk, was crouched in front of him, keeping up a running litany of all the security arrangements in the Tower. Natasha, the Black Widow, one of SHIELD's best spies and assassins, was holding his phone to his ear so that Pepper could tell him that she was walking down a corridor. If this wasn't enough to make him feel safe then nothing would be. He started getting control back over his body, and his breathing slowed. His heart began to slow down until it didn't quite feel like he was a horse at the races. Pepper was practically at the door, so Natasha disconnected the call. He glanced around himself at the concerned faces.

"Sorry, panic attack," said Tony, when he felt able to speak again without his voice disintegrating on him. He was wiped out and a little embarrassed. The adrenaline was draining away and leaving him cold and jittery.

Bruce grabbed the soft purple blanket, that was covered in a pattern of small black arrows, that lay on the equally purple couch, and put it around Tony's shoulders.

"We noticed," said Bruce. "No apologies necessary."

"It's kind of ludicrous," said Tony. "I'm Iron Man and here I am, shaking like a leaf at the prospect of an intruder."

"You've been through a lot," said Steve.

"We all have, but you don't get panic attacks," said Tony.

"I do," said Bruce, suddenly. "Well, I used to. Actually, moving into the Tower helped a lot and I haven't had one for a while. It seems to help that I usually change into the Hulk because I want to now. And I know that the Hulk is pretty much indestructible, but Bruce Banner isn't. I mean, for most of my life I was an academic who spent almost all of his time in a lab. I don't think my brain is ever going to catch up with the idea that bullets can't kill me."

The room was silent for a second. Then Steve cleared his throat.

"As we're being honest, I didn't sleep in my bed in my room when I first moved into the Tower," said Steve. "I used to put the duvet on the floor with a pillow and blankets. It was just that the bed was too soft, and it kind of seemed wrong that I was here, living in luxury, when I'd left a world at war behind me. The soldiers I worked with were lucky to have a bed. Mostly the Howling Commandos slept rough. I know it was a weird thing to do, but it meant I slept and the bad dreams weren't quite so bad."

Tony allowed himself to lean slightly towards Steve in acknowledgement of what he'd just been told.

"I guard Clint," blurted out Natasha, with a rapid exhalation of breath. She paused, perhaps expecting some kind of reaction, but when none was forthcoming she continued. "When we got him back here after we went up against the Red Skull, I slept on his couch for a week. Except I didn't really sleep. It's not every time he's injured, but if it's bad, if he can't defend himself… I have to stand watch. He's my best friend, and I don't know who I'd be without him in my life. He knows that I do it, and he's done it for me too. We know that it's only people like us, people who are lost in violence, who do things like this, but maybe that isn't so wrong."

"I don't think it's wrong to make sure that people you care about are safe," said Steve, and Tony saw the brief meeting of eyes, between the spy and the super soldier, that indicated sincerity on one side and acceptance on the other.

"Clint was totally right when he said we're the PTSD brotherhood," said Tony, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck.

"Sisterhood," said Natasha.

"We're definitely something," said Bruce.

Tony couldn't help but let out a laugh and that was enough to release the tension. Suddenly everyone was smiles and then Pepper was walking into the apartment and pulling Tony into a hug. She didn't complain that she'd been dragged away from her work, or do anything other than be what he needed in that moment. The fact that he knew that she'd been woken twice in the night by her own nightmares only emphasised that she was the most amazing woman that he knew.


	9. Chapter 9

About to Blink

AN: Thanks to all my reviewers and followers. You're all wonderful and your enthusiasm for this story keeps me writing.

AN2: I made a mistake in the number of serotypes in the previous chapter, so I've corrected that in this chapter and the previous. Sorry for confusing anyone that read it before I made the change.

* * *

Clint was stubborn enough that when he'd next awoken, despite his fluctuating temperature, he'd persuaded Bruce to let him get up and at least shower. He was even allowed to do it on his own, much to his relief, although Natasha was stood by the door, checking on him every five minutes. He'd still rather have had that than being stuck in bed for another afternoon.

He loved his apartment most days, when he was in the Tower. The mere fact that it was his and, he had the lease to prove it, meant that there was no better place in the world. He'd never actually owned property before Tony had gifted him the apartment, and he'd had the lease framed and put up on his bedroom wall. He was one of only seven people in the world who owned a piece of Avengers Tower, and he felt privileged to be in that exclusive circle. It was as close to being a home as he'd ever had, and the weird mix of communal living and respecting private space that they'd fallen into over the last few months seemed to be working. But inside was still inside and the apartment only had two real exits, unless he wanted to start scaling the exterior of the building (possible but definitely not desirable without equipment).

He really wanted to go outside and sit on the terrace, but everyone said it was too cold for that. As total agreement amongst the Avengers was rare, he didn't even bother trying to persuade them otherwise. He couldn't help but wonder if it had something to do with his self-inflicted, although totally unintentional, brush with hypothermia a few months previously. Tony's protective streak, already something to behold even before Killian's attack, was in overdrive, but the others were being equally suffocating in Clint's opinion. He knew that they were all desperate to question him further on his mission to Aqiria, but Bruce was still being adamant that Clint needed rest not more stress, and he was sort of using that to avoid their questions. At least they didn't think he'd been seeing things anymore.

Tony had announced his plans to head to the lab and analyse the residue that the hazmat bot had found in the ventilation shafts, but everyone seemed to be treating him a little strangely. Clint's best guess was that Tony had suffered a panic attack at some point whilst Clint was sleeping, and there had been some kind of bonding moment that he'd missed. Tony could be just as stubborn as Clint, so after promising Pepper that he wouldn't work late, he indicated his intent to escape to his lab. That had resulted in Steve saying he'd join Tony there, which was a little unusual to say the least.

The team had then planned to install Clint on the Common Room couch again, but he wanted to see what Tony was going to find, so he dug his heels in and was rewarded for his tenacity by being allowed to go down to the lab instead. Bruce made him promise to either stay on the couch – it was actually a Cadillac's back seat that Tony had removed from a near wreck and placed in the corner of the lab - or the pull-out bed that was basically Clint's anyway. Natasha ended up tagging along because she had nothing better to do, and so they'd gone from the slumber party in Clint's apartment to a science-fest in Tony's lab.

At the moment, Clint was propped up on a nest of pillows on the Cadillac couch, covered with his own purple arrow blanket, wearing a t-shirt and sweat pants, sipping a mug of green tea laced with honey and lemon that Bruce had pressed into his hands. Clint wasn't hating it as much as he thought he might and his stomach seemed to be okay with it too. It was warming his hands pleasantly, although his internal thermostat couldn't work out whether he was going to be too hot or too cold at any given moment. He could see that this symptom was worrying Bruce just a little, but not enough to send him back to bed. He was dosed up on pain medication, but not the strong stuff he'd been on during the worst of the fever, which he considered a win. He was weak and shaky, dozing on and off whilst Tony and Bruce worked, but this was about all he could hope for at this point, so he made the best of it.

He was going to completely ignore the fact that he'd lent heavily on Steve on the journey from his room to the lab, and he definitely wasn't going to acknowledge that the short walk had felt more like one of his runs in the park with Captain America than a stroll downstairs. No, the fact that he was out of bed and not stuck in his apartment was enough of a victory that he was happy for now.

He actually found that the change of scene to the lab was sufficient to quiet a lot of his claustrophobic feelings. He still found himself making sure that he knew where all the exits were, and calculating how long it would take him to get to them. Old habits died hard, even when he was surrounded by Avengers in the securest building in the world. He had eyed the vent that Smoke had disappeared into in particular, but decided that another attack was unlikely.

"We need to find a way to keep that thing out of my Tower," said Tony, as he began his analysis.

"Clint, is there anything helpful that you can tell us about it?" asked Steve.

The archer shrugged. "It didn't seem to like my arrows, and had the ability to turn solid, but I think it was an all or nothing thing. It had to be solid to hold me, but as soon as I hit it and my fist passed through it, it couldn't hang on. And it had a voice like something that came out of the abyss."

"Okay, I have no idea what this stuff is but I can tell you this, it has DNA," said Tony.

Bruce, who had been working at another bench, immediately looked up from what he was doing at this announcement. Natasha, who had been reading her own StarkPad, was clearly interested in this too, she was now paying attention to Tony.

Bruce examined Tony's results. "Looking at this, it might even be mutated human DNA."

"So, it was alive," said Clint.

"That is what DNA usually means," said Tony. "That fever must have hit you harder than I thought, birdbrain, you're not normally so prone to stating the obvious."

Clint gave Tony the finger, at least partly because Tony was right and the illness was slowing his thought processes. Tony just grinned at the reaction that he'd provoked.

"What else?" asked Steve, dragging everyone back to the task at hand.

"It's being a pain to analyse," said Tony.

"The electromagnetic interference means we can't use some of our more usual methods of investigation," added Bruce. "But I think we're dealing with a being that uses energy to confine its body."

Clint frowned. "That sounds familiar, but I can't think why."

"Anything to do with Aqiria?" asked Tony.

"No. Maybe," said Clint, guardedly. He rested his head back on the pillows tiredly. "I don't know."

Tony dropped a tool that he'd been using into a drawer with rather more force than was necessary. "Okay, I have had it with all this tiptoeing around. Fury said you could read us in on the mission, so do it already. What the fuck happened in Aqiria that has got everyone's underwear in a bunch?"

Clint looked over to Natasha for confirmation and she gave him a quick nod of her head. He sighed and took a sip of his tea.

"Have you heard of Eaglestar Industries?" he asked, looking at Tony.

"Of course," said Tony. "When I was still in the weapons business, they were one of my biggest competitors for the Middle Eastern market. Their founder was born in Aqiria but educated in the US. Aqirian mother and American father. Went to Harvard I think. I can't remember his name."

"Davis Harmon," said Clint, without hesitation. "He started the company as just a mercenary outfit, selling security to the highest bidder, but as you say he moved into weapons pretty soon after that. Lately SHIELD has been worried about Eaglestar's R and D programme. We know that the local arm of the Maggia have been funnelling cash into Eaglestar, but it's hard to prove that there's anything illegal going on. Fury wanted proof. I was expecting weapons, but they weren't developing weapons. Well, not exactly. They were modifying people. They had cybernetic soldier programmes, genetic enhancement programmes and who knows what else. That wasn't the worst of it though," said Clint.

"There was worse than that?" said Tony, with horror. Even though he was the only one to say anything, Clint was pretty sure that it was what the others had been thinking though. "What am I saying, this is SHIELD. Of course there was worse."

"Somehow they'd got hold of the body of a Chitauri soldier," said Clint. "SHIELD did its best to pick up everything that was left behind in New York, but we know that a few bits escaped the net. There's a standing order to retrieve anything that we come across, or destroy it if we can't retrieve it."

Natasha nodded. She'd told Clint about her own mission a couple of months previously to retrieve a Chitauri gun, and there had been a few other incidents.

"What were they doing with it?" asked Bruce.

"Studying it. They were doing tests on the Chitauri biology and had started trials on a neural link of some kind. They'd isolated a compound from the Chitauri blood that they were injecting test subjects with. I downloaded their research logs. In the early tests, the compound made the subjects faster and stronger for a while, before it ate away their brain and they went mad. Later tests produced some very unpredictable results and a few bizarre powers," said Clint.

"Like what?" asked Steve.

"Telekinesis, electrical discharge, super strength, spontaneous growth of bone plates across the body…" said Clint. "I didn't watch all the video footage and they'd been at it for a few months by the time I got there. Most of the subjects died and not in good ways. SHIELD has the copy that I made of the research files that I downloaded."

"Most?" asked Tony.

"I discovered first hand that at least a couple of them hadn't," said Clint. "Two of them chased me through the swamps outside Makazan for a day and a half, along with an old friend of mine."

"Crossfire," said Natasha.

Clint wasn't surprised that Natasha knew of Crossfire's involvement in the operation. It was only fair given that she'd pulled his ass out from under the building that Crossfire had dropped on him last time he'd run across the mercenary. He gave her a nod of confirmation.

"Okay, so clearly Eaglestar Industries was into some really bad stuff," said Tony. "So what happened? Did Nicky send in the cavalry to deal with it all?"

"He didn't have to," said Clint. "I burnt the place to the ground. That's kind of the reason why I was being chased through the swamp."

"How did you escape?" asked Steve. "If you had two, er, Chitauri enhanced men on your trail and a mercenary, they wouldn't have let you go easily."

"They didn't but I bided my time and took them down one by one," said Clint. He was not going to go into details that they didn't need to know, not when every word he spoke sapped more of his strength. He sipped his tea again and then put it down on the tool chest that Tony had moved over beside him to act as a table.

"Including Crossfire?" asked Natasha.

"I put an arrow through his eye. That was after I put one through his right hand," replied Clint.

No one looked like they wanted to comment on that, but Natasha gave him a look that he took as her tacit approval.

"Okay, obvious question," said Tony, holding his hand up. "Was the smoke monster you saw one of their reject test subjects?"

Clint shrugged. "I didn't see any test subjects that looked like that thing, but I guess we can't rule it out." He was tiring again and his brain was slowing. He shivered despite the blankets and could feel that his temperature was on the up again. He was finding it hard to stay awake.

"Okay, so what does SHIELD know about Chitauri biotech?" asked Tony.

"Quite a lot," said Bruce. "Some Chitauri tech was built in to their bodies, whilst other bits seemed to stop working once the portal closed. However, we know that there were pieces that didn't."

"How come you even know that?" asked Tony.

"After the invasion, I helped out on one of SHIELD's projects to find a safe way to dispose of all the bodies, and they had teams of pathologists doing dissections. They wanted to be sure they weren't going to end up with bio-hazardous waste on their hands, and they seemed to think my expertise with the Hulk's biology might help. Unfortunately the Hulk doesn't have much in common with the Chitauri as it turns out," said Bruce, pushing his glasses back up his nose.

"Right, so they should have done some of the research for us," said Tony. "Natasha, do you think SHIELD would let us have the Chitauri tech files?"

"I can ask," replied Natasha. "I'm more interested in where this smoke monster thing came from and who it was working for."

"And what was it here for?" asked Steve. "You don't break in to Avengers Tower unless you're after something."

"I can look into the local Maggia. Clint has contacts that I can tap," said Natasha. "You can give me some names, can't you Clint?"

"Guys," said Steve, with an incline of his head in Clint's direction. "You're going to have to wait for those names."

Clint was barely paying attention, because he was already half asleep. His eyes had fallen shut, and he heard Bruce say: "Yeah, he's going to be tired for a while. This fluctuating temperature isn't usual for Dengue fever though."

He didn't hear how anyone reacted to that.

* * *

Natasha frowned at her partner as he fell asleep. She was concerned.

"He was hanging out in an experimental biotech facility," said Tony. "We're sure this really is Dengue Fever and not something else? I know Fury said they weren't dealing with bioweapons, but Chitauri biology class sounds like it might be far worse."

"It's definitely Dengue Fever," said Bruce, "I did the PCR. The DNA is a match for Dengue and Aqiria is a hot spot for the disease. It may be a new serotype, but that doesn't stop it being Dengue Fever. Unless the mosquito that bit Clint, bit something else before…"

Bruce was frowning and it wasn't a good frown. Natasha was getting good at recognising the doctor's facial expressions, and this one was what she would categorise as worried contemplation.

"You mean he might have got a touch of Chitauri along with the Dengue Fever?" asked Tony. "Oh that is so not good, and would be totally typical of Clint's luck."

"But his blood work was fine apart from the Dengue virus," said Bruce. "Maybe I'm just worrying over nothing and this is just the difference in serotype expressing itself."

"I think you lost me when you started talking about serotypes," said Steve.

"You could say that they're different varieties of a single virus," explained Bruce. "Dengue fever has five serotypes, but the one I found in Clint's blood looks like it might be a sixth, new serotype of Dengue. That would be quite the discovery, but viruses mutate and it wouldn't be totally unheard of. You understand how mosquitos transmit disease by biting people?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah, I knew people that had served in tropical areas and caught malaria. The mosquitos carry the disease and inject it into the bloodstream when they feed. I assume the same thing happens with Dengue Fever."

"Yeah, exactly," said Bruce. "But Clint was spending time in a population that had individuals in it that had been altered by some kind of Chitauri biological compound. If the mosquito that gave him Dengue Fever bit one of them and then bit Clint, it could have transferred something in the bite."

"We need those research files that Clint said he downloaded," said Tony.

"I'll call SHIELD," said Natasha. "And I'll see if I can get the mission files too. Clint just gave us the quick version of events; there's more to it than that. Are you going to be able to handle him if I head back to SHIELD HQ for a few hours? I'll get this done more quickly in person."

"We should be fine," said Steve. "I think he's just going to sleep anyway."

"And we'll keep working on ways to deal with Clint's smoke monster," said Tony. "He said his arrows seemed to hurt it. Maybe it's allergic to metal or it disrupted the electromagnetic field, or... Adamantium. The arrows were adamantium tipped. They were the new batch that I made for him to replace the ones he used against the Red Skull. Adamantium has unusually high magnetic properties."

"That's something that we can work with," said Bruce, now looking a little less concerned. Although he was still keeping an eye on their sleeping team mate.

Natasha left them to it and made the short journey back to SHIELD's New York office. She would have preferred to have had Clint's input on this but he needed the sleep more than she needed the information at the moment.

She met Fury in his chosen office space on the top floor. He was sat behind his desk wearing his SHIELD uniform when she entered, and he glanced up with his single eye as she took the seat opposite him.

"How's my asset?" asked Fury, putting down the data pad that he'd been working on.

"Running a temperature, sir," said Natasha. "The rest of the team are in hyper protective mode so you may want to bear that in mind before you give them another half-truth about their sniper. Stark's pretty much ready to kill any threat that even approaches the team, and Rogers is on the warpath about you not telling them Hawkeye was in Aqiria, so expect to have a difficult conversation with him next time you see him."

"I invariably have difficult conversations with Captain Rogers," said Fury. "What else do I need to know?"

"I think Hawkeye's mission may have led to some unwanted attention," said Natasha. "He was attacked in the Tower whilst we were out dealing with Viper's attempted break out. He described it as a smoke monster that could move through the vents. The video footage was corrupted, but Stark was able to collect evidence that backed up what Hawkeye described. Stark and Banner want access to Agent Barton's mission logs and the research he downloaded from the base that he destroyed."

Fury was giving her his full attention now. "I'm not sure that's a good idea. The harm that someone could do with what Barton found would be immeasurable. It's one of the few times that he's disobeyed orders and I've completely agreed with the decision he made."

"Hawkeye wasn't supposed to destroy the compound?" asked Natasha.

"It was supposed to be a recon and assassination mission. Davis Harmon was Hawkeye's target. But he made the right call, the Chitauri bio enhancements that they were working on were the priority, and they needed to be dealt with. Of course he nearly got himself killed in the process, but we can take Crossfire off our wanted list," said Fury. "It wasn't a total clusterfuck. I'd like to know exactly how they got a Chitauri soldier's body out of the United States though, especially given the security around New York at the time."

Natasha read between the lines. Whilst she expected that Clint had got a slap on the wrist for failing to follow orders, Fury had clearly been pretty pleased with the outcome of the mission. There was a reason that Hawkeye was one of SHIELD's top operatives, and at least part of that was because of his ability to deal with the unexpected without blinking – a skill which was incredibly useful in the field. It was also one of the reasons why she was still alive, because if Hawkeye hadn't disobeyed orders and brought her in, then she'd probably be dead now.

"Maggia interest wouldn't be unexpected," said Fury. "They'll still be smarting from losing their largest R and D facility, and trying to work out who to punish for it. I'm surprised that they're aware of Hawkeye's involvement though. Everyone who worked at that compound is supposed to be dead," said Fury.

"Maybe someone got a message out before the place went up in flames," said Natasha.

"It's one explanation. But attacking Avengers' Tower is a fool's move. Either they're getting bolder, there was something there that they needed, or they're stronger than we thought. I don't like those alternatives, Agent Romanoff." Fury paused for a moment.

"No, sir," replied Natasha. "But the Avengers are in a good place to pick up the mission where Hawkeye left off. If the Maggia want to pick a fight with us, then we'll be very willing to oblige."

Fury raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure you would, but I'm not convinced that this merits the attention of Earth's mightiest heroes." The quirk of his lip let her know exactly how he meant that title.

"They could do with the distraction. At least it would stop Stark from building another army of Iron Man suits and making the Council nervous," said Natasha.

Fury fixed Natasha with a look and she knew that she'd won him over. "I'll make a deal with Stark and Banner. They can have the research from Eaglestar, if they'll hand over everything that they have on this smoke monster, but the consequences are your responsibility, Agent Romanoff."

"Understood, sir," said Natasha. "It's a fair deal, I'd expect them to go for it."

"Good. Maybe they can work out what they were up to at Eaglestar. Our own scientists are having a hard time unravelling all the threads." Fury typed away on his data pad for a moment. "I'll make sure you have the correct clearance to access the files you need. When can I expect to have my sniper back?"

"I'd give him at least a couple of weeks, assuming no complications. He won't be a hundred per cent but he'll be desperate to get back to work."

Fury nodded. "Tell him he's on sick leave for the next two weeks, pending the usual fitness assessment. Dismissed."

"Yes, sir," said Romanoff. The entire interview had proceeded considerably better than she'd expected.

* * *

Natasha had returned to the Tower a few hours after she'd left and handed over the SHIELD files on Clint's mission and everything that they knew about Chitauri tech. Tony was slightly wary. This all seemed too easy. Of course she'd waited until after they'd seen how useful the files might be to tell them about the deal she'd made with Fury. Whilst neither Tony nor Bruce were entirely happy with handing their research on Smoke back to SHIELD, Tony had seen the look that Bruce had given Clint, still sleeping on the couch in the corner of the lab, and he'd given in. SHIELD could have their research, such as it was.

It took them days to go through all the data, and they very quickly discovered that the experimenters hadn't known what they were doing for half of it. Even when they got something to work, they often weren't sure why. It was going to be hard to unravel exactly how they had done what they'd done.

Clint positioned himself on the lab's couch for as much of it as he could get away with. Mostly he slept but he was staying awake for longer as the days progressed, and the illness subsided. Bruce would send him back to his own bed each evening and Natasha would persuade him to nibble on a sandwich at lunchtime, whilst making sure that Tony and Bruce also stopped for some food. They ate dinner as a team with Pepper, and dragged Clint with them – today he'd even sat at the table rather than lounging on the sofa.

Steve and Natasha had spent a fair amount of their time upgrading the security systems in the Tower, but Clint had finally given Natasha some contacts to follow up, so she'd been busy with that too. Steve was considered a little too conspicuous to be allowed to help out with that, especially as a few of them were nervous about talking to anyone who wasn't Clint, and Natasha didn't want to spook them further. So when Steve wasn't re-working security procedures, he was helping out on Pepper guard duty (mainly for Tony's peace of mind) or hanging out around the lab reading his paper (also mainly for Tony's peace of mind, because apparently his brain didn't believe that the Captain could look after himself, despite evidence to the contrary).

On day five, Steve had given up and gone to the gym, which meant Tony was left with a sleeping physicist and a stubborn archer. Tony would never have believed that he would be the one telling a team-mate to get out of the lab and go to bed, but here he was. It was mainly because Bruce had already taken the fold-out bed. Clint had picked at dinner and still looked far too pale, especially with the red marks from the petechiae turning purple. Apparently one of Dengue Fever's less pleasant symptoms was a tendency to bleed more easily than usual, so Clint had put up with tiny bruises forming across his skin and daily nose bleeds. The only complaint he'd made was when someone had left the tissues out of easy reach the previous day. Tony doubted that he'd have been so sanguine about the entire thing.

"Come on, Legolas, off my couch and out of my lab. It's way past your bedtime," said Tony.

Clint sighed. It was getting harder to persuade him to go to bed at a regular time now that he was feeling a little better. He was still weak though, and more worryingly, his body was being patchy in keeping his temperature regulated when he should be well past the feverish stage.

"I'm not five, Tony," said Clint.

"And yet you still need to be told to go to bed, and yes, I am completely aware of the irony of that statement."

"Then follow your own advice," said Clint, as he shakily pushed himself to his feet. He lent down to collect his mug of cold tea and nearly lost his balance. Tony was very careful to pay absolutely no attention to this.

"I have work to do that doesn't involve figuring out how some mad scientists were trying to create super henchmen. The only peace and quiet I get at the moment is when you two are sleeping," said Tony, with a nod in Bruce's direction.

"What are you working on now?" asked Clint. He took a sip of the cold tea and made a face at the taste. Clint didn't really like tea, but Bruce seemed to think it was better for him than the vats of coffee that he usually drank. Surprisingly, Clint was doing as he was told, probably because he didn't have the energy to protest.

"Armour for Pepper," said Tony, pulling up the holographic plans that he was working on. "But don't tell her, I don't want her to freak out and think that I expect her to join the family super hero business. This is purely for protection."

He didn't mention that he'd also been looking into new suits for the team. Clint was probably already feeling suffocated by all the attention he'd been getting because of his illness. Having Tony tell him that he was working on a new suit would almost certainly be too much for the fiercely independent archer to take at the moment. Quite frankly Tony was surprised that Clint was spending so much time in the lab, with other human beings. He doubted that this would have happened six months ago under the same conditions, but a lot had happened since Loki's invasion.

Clint moved closer to get a better look at the plans. "Nice, but you might want to get rid of the shaping for the boobs. I know it looks hot, but in battle that valley in the middle could get her killed if someone comes at her with a blade, or a bullet hits her wrong. You're better off with a single curve over them."

Tony had sculpted two individual, armoured breast cups, like a bra. He hadn't really thought about what that might mean. Now that Clint had pointed it out, he could see that a blade or bullet could be deflected off the breast cup and into the centre of Pepper's chest. The armour would probably hold, but it was a weak spot for sure. Damn it, it had looked so good, but Clint was right, it would have to go. He'd long ago stopped being surprised by the information that Clint knew, but maybe this was one of those "I use a medieval weapon" things. He supposed that armour was sort of medieval too. He should probably tease Clint about being an archer less, but it was too much fun not to.

Tony manipulated the curves for a moment until he was satisfied with the transformation. There was now a smooth curve that rose gently over the breast area and dipped back in with a sharper arc. It was more like a close fitting t-shirt now, in red and gold metal of course.

"Better?" he asked.

Clint nodded, casting a critical eye over the new design. "Yeah, definitely safer."

Tony gave Clint a sidelong look. "We did not just have a conversation about my girlfriend's breasts."

Clint gave him a smirk. "I won't tell Pepper if you don't."

"I don't think that will be a problem," replied Tony. "Now, scram, out of my lab."

Clint was still smirking as he turned to go and Tony shook his head as he ignored the archer, returning his attention to the armour in front of him.

The crash of Clint's mug hitting the floor alerted him to something being wrong about two seconds after that. His head snapped up to see Clint cradling his left hand, the one that he had been holding the mug in. Clint was ambidextrous, but did favour his left hand slightly for picking things up. The archer was wobbling on his feet and then lent against the wall. Tony dropped what he was doing and was already in motion towards Clint when the shivering began. The colour was draining from his face and it was like he'd just come in from the cold.

"Damn it," said Clint, quietly.

"What happened?" asked Tony, as he reached Clint, not daring to put a hand on his friend until given permission. Touching Clint unexpectedly in times of stress usually ended badly for the person who'd been stupid enough to lay a hand on the assassin.

"I dropped the mug," said Clint, sounding more surprised than anything.

"Duh," said Tony. "Kind of an extreme reaction to a broken mug, Legolas. Come on, back to the couch. Bruce, wake up. Bruce!"

Tony let Clint lean into the hand that hovered by the archer's elbow, and then carefully helped him to the couch. He covered him in the blanket that rested there. His attention was half on Bruce, who was stirring at the second shout.

"God damn it. Bruce!"

That did it. Bruce sat up sharply and looked around blinking. An unmistakeable green tinge to his eyes faded as it became clear there was no threat requiring the Hulk. "What?"

Tony just indicated Clint, shivering under the blanket.

"Jarvis, give me a temperature reading for Agent Barton," said Bruce, shoving off his own blankets and rapidly extricating himself from the bed. He was with Clint in a few hurried steps, crouching in front of him. "Clint, I'm going to take your pulse," he said, and waited for the nod before taking his carotid pulse. Since Clint was clutching at his left hand with his right, Bruce had apparently decided that this was the best option.

"Agent Barton's mean body temperature is 37.9˚C, however the surface temperature of his left hand is considerably cooler," said Jarvis. He appropriated Tony's hologramatic display of Pepper's armour to show exactly what he was talking about.

Bruce frowned. It was a look that Tony was getting used to and he didn't like it.

"What the hell does that mean?" asked Tony.

"I feel like I just put my hand into a bucket of ice water," said Clint, between shivers.

"Is it painful?" asked Bruce.

Clint gave a grudging nod. "But it's fading."

"Was that what made you drop the mug?" asked Bruce. "It wasn't a muscle spasm or loss of feeling?"

Clint frowned. "I think I was just surprised."

Tony could see that something was bothering Clint beyond just the pain of his hand and the annoyance of a broken mug, but if Clint didn't want to tell them, then he wouldn't. That didn't stop Tony from wondering what he was thinking about though.

"May I?" asked Bruce, indicating Clint's left hand that he was still cradling with his right. Again Clint gave him a nod and Bruce gently took the hand and began to examine it. "It feels cold to the touch. Can you move your fingers?"

Clint flexed his fingers gently, as if he was trying to get the blood flowing again after being out on a cold day.

"Good," said Bruce, and he got Clint to flex his wrist as well, checking for pain as he did so. "It seems fine and if you can move it without pain then that's a good sign. Normally, cold extremities are associated with poor circulation, but it's very unusual for it to only be one hand. You'd also probably have had symptoms before now. I think we need Doctor Henderson to take a look at it."

Clint let his head fall back against the pillows on the couch. "You've dealt with the Dengue Fever fine, Doc. Why the sudden need to call Doctor Henderson?"

"Because you still can't regulate your body temperature and now you're getting unexplained pain in your left hand. It could be a new symptom and there are some things about this Dengue Fever which just aren't fitting with known symptoms. I need to bring in a second opinion and Henderson has worked with SHIELD cases for a while. He's used to the kind of bizarre and weird that you people run into on a daily basis."

"Uh, you do realise what you just said," Tony pointed out. "You're the Hulk."

Bruce just glared at Tony. "Forgive my poor phrasing. Clint needs to see a proper doctor. One that actually has an MD and didn't spend his research time trying to use gamma radiation to create a super soldier."

"Well, when you put it like that," said Tony, glancing at Clint.

"I'd still rather have Bruce," grumbled Clint, his shivers subsiding. "But if you really think I need to see Doctor Henderson… I trust you."

There was a shout of "marco" from down the hall. Tony realised that he'd missed a check in with Pepper about five minutes ago.

"Jarvis, holographic display off."

The new, clearly female armour designs disappeared. He shouted back "polo", just as Pepper came into the room and nearly trod on the broken mug. It took her about five seconds to take in the scene.

"Oh my god, what happened? Tony didn't blow something up again did he? Did Clint get hurt?" Pepper's eyes were full of concern.

"I'm fine, Pepper," said Clint. "I just felt a bit strange and dropped a mug. No big deal. Sorry about the mug."

"You're apologising to the girlfriend of one of the richest men in the world for breaking a mug?" asked Tony. "Seriously, we have hundreds."

"Normal people say sorry when they break something, Tony," said Pepper.

"I'll clean it up," said Clint, making to get up.

"Don't be silly. You're not well," said Pepper. "I'll do it. If we leave it to Tony, it'll still be here next week."

"I resent that," said Tony. "Besides, the cleaning bot will get it well before then."

Clint apparently decided that this was his cue to leave. He mumbled a thanks to Pepper, then did his best to grab his blanket and get up. That would have been fine if Clint hadn't been recovering from a tropical disease. He was shaky on his feet and if Bruce hadn't stood to support him then he would have fallen.

"Hey, there's no rush," said Bruce.

"I'm tired and I'd really like to go to bed," said Clint.

"Okay, I'll walk you to your door," replied Bruce. "Just take it a bit more slowly this time."

Clint nodded. "Not sure I need the escort, but if you're going my way…"

Tony watched Bruce and Clint, with his purple blanket wrapped around his shoulders, negotiate the lab benches and head out of the lab. Bruce wasn't exactly supporting Clint, but he was definitely within range to catch him should the younger man stumble.

Pepper retrieved a dustpan and brush from the cleaning cupboard that Tony hadn't even known existed until five seconds ago. Then she proceeded to clean up the broken mug without comment. Pepper picked up one of the larger shards of the mug that had shattered.

"What was Clint drinking? It's ice cold," said Pepper, as she swept up the rest.

Tony shrugged. "I thought it was green tea. He's supposed to be avoiding things high in caffeine to help keep hydrated while he recovers and Bruce is trying to convert him to the ways of tea drinking."

"Strange," said Pepper, peering at the residue in the mug. "Anyway, I came down here to chase you out of the lab because even the great Tony Stark needs sleep sometimes."

Tony was thinking, and wasn't really paying attention to what Pepper was saying. He grabbed one of his clear plastic boxes that he used to sort small electronics parts into, and snatched the dustpan from Pepper's hands. He deposited the remains of the broken mug into the box and snapped a lid onto it.

"Tony!" said Pepper, annoyed at having the dustpan taken from her without even a "please".

"That is going to be the key to something," said Tony, putting the box on his bench. "I just don't know what yet."

Luckily Pepper was used to this kind of behaviour and he only got into minimal trouble for being his rude, obnoxious self. She did win on getting him to leave the lab and get some sleep though.


	10. Chapter 10

About to Blink

AN: A little bit of a longer wait than I'd wanted for this one. Some chapters require more work than others.

* * *

The problem with Clint sending Natasha to talk to his contacts was that most of them didn't know Natasha. They wouldn't talk to her and didn't trust that Clint had sent her. Mostly she had come back to the Tower with little to no new information. Natasha had a couple of her own contacts in New York, but they had proven unhelpful when it came to smoke monsters and Maggia involvement in sales of contraband Chitauri body parts.

Clint saw a way to avoid his appointment with Doctor Henderson and get some information on the thing that had attacked him, so he went for it. He made it all the way down to the lobby before Natasha caught up with him.

"Where do you think you're going?" she asked.

"Out," said Clint. He was dressed in dark jeans and a grey t-shirt, with his favourite black jacket over the top. It felt slightly strange to be in proper clothes after almost two weeks of wearing pyjamas or sweats. He knew that he still looked like crap, but he was feeling better than he had for days, and was definitely stronger than he had been.

"Out was understood," said Natasha, moving so that she was between him and the door. "Fury gave you two weeks sick leave. If you were sensible you'd wait until you're able to hold a gun without shaking before stepping out of that door."

"I'm just going for a walk," said Clint.

"You're not and we both know it," said Natasha. "I thought we had an agreement not to lie to each other."

"Fine, I'm going to see Dmitri. It's not far and I brought my weapons," said Clint, with a shrug at his black backpack, which was slung over one shoulder. "I know my own limits, Natasha."

"You might have waved at your limits as you leapt off that building in Budapest, but at best they're a passing acquaintance," said Natasha, with a twitch of her lips. "And I admit that you now hang out with a group of people who are barely on speaking terms with their own limits, but that doesn't mean you have to copy them."

Clint raised an eyebrow and gave her a quizzical look.

"A metaphor too far?" asked Natasha.

"Maybe just one," said Clint.

"Okay, where are we going?" said Natasha, and moved around so that she was beside Clint. She pulled out her phone. "I need to know so that I can work out when we should reschedule your appointment with Doctor Henderson."

Clint sighed and rattled off the address. Natasha was apparently coming with him. She put her mobile to her ear and waited a second for whoever she was calling to answer.

"Hi," Natasha said into her phone. "Yes, I caught up with him in the lobby." She glanced at Clint, who refused to feel guilty about deciding to do something as simple as going out. He could hear Tony's raised voice on the other end of the phone and Natasha let the billionaire vent for a moment. "Yes, I know. We'll be careful." There was another pause as Tony said something. "Just move it to this afternoon, we'll be back in good time. Okay. Bye, Tony." She looked at Clint as she put the phone back into her pocket. "Panic attack averted."

Now, that _did_ make him feel guilty. "You're evil, you know that?"

"And you're a stubborn ass. It's good that we both play to our strengths," replied Natasha.

"Okay, you are in a bad mood today. This is going to be a lot of fun," said Clint, and he wasn't entirely sure himself whether he'd meant that as sarcasm or the truth. The two assassins headed out into the street to hail a cab.

Dmitri Volkov, the man they were going to see, was a restaurant proprietor and served all kinds of customers in his establishment. As Clint had discovered, one of the major kinds of customer that he served was the kind that preferred people didn't know their names. That included the Maggia and a few other unsavoury types, which made Dmitri a useful person to know. The fact that Clint had helped him out of a couple of difficult situations meant that the restaurateur was happy to pass him the odd tip about what the bad guys were up to.

They went around to the kitchen door and were ushered inside rapidly. All Clint had to do was mention that Hawkeye wanted to see Dmitri and he was shown straight through to the proprietor's small office.

"My friend, it's good to see you again," said Dmitri in Russian. He was a thinnish man with wispy hair that didn't cover his balding head, and a nose that looked as if he'd borrowed it from a bird of prey. His eyes sparkled with an inner fire, but the smile was unmistakeably friendly.

"You too," said Clint, also in Russian and clasping his hand in greeting. "This is my friend, Natasha."

Natasha offered him her hand, which was taken much more gently and given a quick shake of tentative friendship.

"It's a pleasure," said Natasha, still in Russian.

"What have you been doing to yourself? You look like crap, my friend. You haven't been eating properly," said Dmitri. He went to the door of the office and shouted down the short corridor that led to the kitchen. "Sergei, bring a plate of pirozhki over here for our Hawk."

"Thanks but I'm really not hungry," said Clint, wondering if this had been such a good idea. Dmitri almost always offered Clint food when he made an appearance at the restaurant. The Russian had just lifted down the bottle of good vodka from its shelf and was pouring it into three shot glasses. Clint definitely didn't feel like drinking, but it would be rude to refuse completely.

"Nonsense, you'll love these. What business brings you to my door?" asked Dmitri. "And I know that this is business and you're not here just to enjoy my food or my company. Not looking like something that the cat dragged in. Although if you and the beautiful Natasha would like a private dining room one evening, then you only have to say."

Natasha smiled. "We'll bear that in mind," she said. "Unfortunately, we did indeed come on business."

Sergei appeared with a large plate of pirozhki, small fried buns that were usually filled with meat, and left them on Dmitri's desk. They smelled delicious but Clint's appetite was decidedly low at the moment. He took one of the pirozhki and bit into it with as much enthusiasm as he could manage. Normally he loved these things, which was probably why Dmitri had asked for them, but today he just wasn't able to muster any enthusiasm. Natasha was rather quicker to take one and hers was gone in a couple of bites.

The three of them clinked their vodka glasses together and drank. Clint hadn't eaten much before he'd decided to take his walk, so the alcohol was now sitting rather uncomfortably in his nearly empty stomach. Still, he wasn't going to offend Dmitri. He needed any information that he might have, however small.

"Dmitri, have you heard anything about a new Maggia operation?" he asked. "It might have started as far back as the invasion."

Dmitri's forehead wrinkled in deep thought. "There's a lot of rumours flying around. The Maggia are definitely up to something and Mr Fallon brought a new friend in for dinner a few nights ago."

"Mr Fallon?" asked Natasha.

"Jonas Fallon. He's an enforcer for the Corvallo family," said Dmitri. "This guy wasn't one of his men though."

"Did you get a name?" Clint asked.

"Mr Fallon called him Harmon I think," said Dmitri.

Clint and Natasha exchanged a look. Clint had really hoped that Davis Harmon had died in the fire at Eaglestar, but apparently he'd got out somehow. Usually Hawkeye did a more thorough job when he was sent to kill someone, but then he had been running for his life at the time.

"He had a weird bodyguard with him. Not one of Mr Fallon's regulars," continued Dmitri.

"Weird how?" asked Natasha.

"He had this strange red glass eye, like a monocle but it looked like it was attached. Very weird," said Dmitri.

"Sounds it," said Clint. "Any idea what they were talking about?"

"My waiter did get a few bits and pieces to add to the rumour mill. Mr Fallon seemed less than pleased because they'd lost one of their operations and had to relocate it to the US. Mr Harmon didn't seem to think this was much of a problem."

"Any cameras in this place?" asked Natasha.

"Please, if I was to have cameras then half my clientele would vanish overnight," said Dmitri.

"Dmitri, I know you better than that. There aren't any _obvious_ cameras," said Clint. "What about the one you have in the light fitting to keep your patrons and staff honest?"

Dmitri grinned. "The Hawk has good eyes. I always forget how good."

"Can we see the footage?" asked Natasha.

Dmitri hesitated for a moment, and then nodded. He turned on his computer monitor, which looked like it had escaped from the 80s. He typed on the equally ancient looking keyboard for a moment and finally brought up the footage of the day in question. Dmitri hit play and fast forwarded to the right time frame.

Clint recognised Davis Harmon the moment he walked through the door, and then Jonas Fallon, a local Maggia family enforcer. The bodyguard that accompanied him was a slightly different matter because he was wearing a hooded top that obscured his face. It wasn't until he caught sight of the bandage on his hand that the sinking feeling started in the pit of Clint's stomach.

"It can't be," he murmured, dropping into English. "Come on, turn towards the camera."

They watched as the party moved to the back of the restaurant and then the bodyguard turned around so that he could maintain a good view of the restaurant. Clint could see the red eye piece that Dmitri had already mentioned. More importantly he could see the man's face.

"If they come back in, you call me," said Clint, his words in terse and rapid Russian. "Thanks for the vodka, Dmitri."

Clint didn't wait for Natasha to follow him, he stormed out of the office and through the kitchens to the restaurant's back door. He grabbed the nearest throwable object that he could find, a bottle from the restaurant's recycling, and pitched it into the opposite wall of the alleyway. He hit the exact spot that he'd been aiming at, and was suddenly annoyed with himself for aiming when this was supposed to be about losing control. He needed to vent this anger and get back his composure quickly so that he could think clearly and work out his next move.

He was about to launch another bottle after the first, when he felt a hand on his arm. He acted on instinct and pulled the person into a throw, but they twisted out of his grip and tried to sweep his legs out from under him. He couldn't stop himself from going down but he could take his assailant with him. He finally saw who it was and made sure that he landed on the bottom of the pile.

"Clint," said Natasha, as she fell on top of him.

"Sorry," said Clint.

Natasha didn't comment. Clint was fairly certain that she'd expected the throw and had done the entire thing on purpose to get him to calm down. He took a couple of deep breaths as Natasha got to her feet, and then offered Clint a hand up.

"He's supposed to be dead," said Clint, by way of explanation as he took Natasha's hand. "I put an arrow through his goddamn eye!"

"Through and through or did it lodge in his skull?" asked Natasha. She didn't ask him if he was sure that he'd hit him, because Clint wouldn't have said that he had unless he was sure. And of course Clint never missed what he was aiming at.

"It lodged," said Clint, now on his feet and brushing off his pants.

"It's very unusual, but occasionally people do survive severe penetrative head trauma. It's possible that he got medical help and survived, especially if he'd got some of their Chitauri serum in him. We're dealing with a group that has a lot of resources and clearly some serious biotech knowledge," said Natasha.

"This is just fantastic. Crossfire is alive and in New York. Not only that but he now has twice the grudge against me that he had before, because I cost him an eye," said Clint. He was feeling cold again and he shivered. His body was misbehaving once more. "Damn it."

Natasha reached out and put a hand on his forehead. "You're warm again. Come on, I'm taking you back to the Tower."

Clint sighed, and did his best to still the shivers. "We should go and talk to some of my other contacts. I'm fine."

"You're not," said Natasha, giving him a look that made it very clear what would happen if he argued.

He gave up, shaking his head in disgust as he stalked down the alleyway and out onto the street to hail a cab back to the Tower. He wasn't going to win an argument against Natasha right now.

* * *

Steve watched Clint stalk into the Tower's Common Room like he was under a black cloud and head straight for the doors that led to the Infirmary. Natasha was a few steps behind him, but peeled off to move towards the kitchen.

Steve opened his mouth to ask what the problem was but Clint was ahead of him.

"Don't, just don't," said Clint. "I've got an appointment to get to."

He brushed past Tony on his way, ignoring the assessing look that the billionaire gave him.

"Jarvis, slam the door for me," said Clint, as he stepped through the automatic doors that led from the Common Room area towards the Infirmary. Jarvis obliged by shutting the doors rather harder than was necessary, which created a satisfying thud.

"I'm beginning to think that you've got a soft spot for our archer, J," said Tony. "You'd never do that for me."

"You'd specify the force and probably break the door," said Jarvis. "Agent Barton and I have an understanding."

"Something I should know?" asked Steve, looking over to Natasha.

"Apparently an arrow through the eye wasn't enough to kill Crossfire. We have him on film in a restaurant earlier this week, acting as a bodyguard for David Harmon, also not dead, who was eating with a local Maggia family enforcer," said Natasha. "Clint is, understandably, not happy."

"I'll say," said Tony.

"So what's our next move?" asked Steve.

"Well, they were at the restaurant with Jonas Fallon who works for the Corvallo family. SHIELD has a fair amount of intelligence on Christiana Corvallo, the current family head and her organisation. Although she's been careful to keep herself isolated from anything illegal," said Natasha. "I'll get them to send over her file, and maybe go and pay her a visit."

"Not on your own," said Steve.

"I do this sort of thing on my own all the time," pointed out Natasha. "You know how I work."

"That doesn't mean you have to go in without backup," said Steve.

"I'll think about it," said Natasha. "It partly depends on how I end up infiltrating the organisation."

"Hang on, did you say Corvallo?" said Tony. "I'm sure I remember getting invited to some big party that the Corvallo family were throwing for the heir-apparent's birthday. Normally I'd blow it off, but if it'll get us some useful information I can get Pepper to accept it."

Steve was shaking his head. "Isn't it just a little convenient that you've been invited to a party hosted by a Maggia family head? One that we're currently chasing?"

"Until today, I had no idea that Christiana Corvallo was anything other than a business woman and I got the invite weeks ago," said Tony.

"But why would a criminal invite Iron Man to one of her parties? Your identity isn't a secret, and they know that you're an Avenger," said Steve.

"A good way to look suspicious if you're a criminal is to stop inviting Tony Stark to your parties," said Tony. "I get invited to about ten parties a week, and I used to go to a lot of them, but since I became Iron Man I've been busy with other things. And going to parties suddenly became kind of dull. Pepper still makes me attend the odd one or two. Apparently it's good PR to be seen chatting up the rich and famous, and useful for keeping up our business contacts."

"Yes, but going would put you and Pepper in danger. You're vulnerable without the suit," said Steve. He didn't like this at all.

"Well I'm certain I could just say that Pepper wasn't able to make it and take Natalie Rushman instead," he said, sending a hopeful look towards Natasha.

Steve could see that Natasha was actually thinking about it, which didn't bode well. Tony really was serious about just walking into the home of a Maggia family head, with only Natasha for backup and she was going to agree to it.

"That might work," said Natasha.

"What?" asked Steve. "You'll let Tony come with you, but you weren't going to let me back you up?"

"It's all about circumstance," said Natasha. "We need a way into the Corvallo family and this may just be it."

"Besides," said Tony, "we can have an open com line and you can be somewhere close by, ready to jump in at the slightest sign of trouble."

"What if something happens and I can't get to you in time?" asked Steve.

"Then I'll have a suit within easy reach and Natasha will probably be laden down with concealed weapons, so we'll be fine even if you're a little late to the party," said Tony. "Come on, Steve, let's at least look into it before we dismiss the idea. I really don't want these people coming at Clint again, especially when he's not a hundred per cent."

Steve still didn't like the idea but Tony did have a point, and they desperately needed more information. "When's the party?"

"I have no idea. I'll ask Pepper," said Tony, clearly realising that he'd got his own way.

"I'll get the files on the Corvallo family," said Natasha. "One more thing. No one mentions this to Clint. If he finds out, he'll want to come along."

"You're asking us to hide this from your fellow spy?" asked Tony. "Good luck with that one."

"Natasha's right. He's recovering from Dengue Fever and he's not fit enough to be back in the field," said Steve.

"I didn't say that she wasn't right," said Tony. "But Clint knows us and he's smart. He'll work it out in about five minutes." Tony frowned. "Please, don't tell him that I said he's smart. I'll never hear the end of it."

Steve just smiled and shook his head at that. Tony told Clint that he was smart all the time, because clearly the archer needed to be told as he didn't believe it himself unless he was regularly reminded.

"We just won't say anything," said Natasha. "You and Pepper can pretend to go to the party. Cap and I will say we've got a mission briefing at SHIELD's New York HQ."

"That might just work," said Tony. "He's used to secrecy when it's your work. Bruce can babysit."

A quiet ding sounded to let them know that the elevator had arrived at their floor. The doors opened to reveal Pepper, who did not look happy.

"Tony, did you know about this?" she asked, seeing the inventor, who had been quietly heading towards the bar. She held out a StarkPad towards him.

Tony frowned and accepted the Pad. He read it over and then looked back at his partner and CEO. "No, I did not know about that."

"Problem?" asked Steve.

"Just Stark Industries business. Someone stole a robotic surgeon from one of our warehouses a couple of weeks ago," said Tony. "Hon, this was about the time you were recovering from the Extremis virus. They probably didn't think it was worth telling you about it on your sick bed."

"Yes, but I should have known last week and I've only just found out. Tony, you know how much one of those is worth and the lead time for fabrication. Now we can't deliver it to the client on time. I'm going to have to delay all the other orders just to get one to them next week, and give them a discount. Medical technology is a competitive marketplace and we'll end up with a bad reputation." Pepper took the Pad back.

"I am entirely confident that you'll find a way to make sure that we don't, Ms Potts," said Tony.

"Even I'm not a miracle worker," said Pepper.

"Close enough," replied Tony, without even a second's delay. He poured himself a glass of scotch, and held up another glass in case anyone else wanted to join him. He received shakes of the head from everyone else, so put the glass away again. It was a little earlier than Tony usually started drinking, but Steve would let him off given that he was worried about Clint's appointment with the doctor.

Tony took a sip of the scotch. "Although I do wonder who would want a sophisticated robotic surgeon which can't be used unless it's under the supervision of a trained professional. It would be very hard to sell on and difficult to ship out of the country."

"But not impossible," said Pepper. "And it would make someone a lot of money if they sold it to the right people."

"Just how much is this thing worth?" asked Natasha.

"They retail for about $3 million," said Tony, as if that was change that he'd found down the side of the couch.

Steve was more hung up on the actual thing than the amount it was worth. "You let robots perform surgery now?"

"Sure, why not?" asked Tony. "They need smaller incisions to work through and are more precise than a human surgeon. Ours is especially clever because it can work without a surgeon operating it for a number of routine procedures. You just tell it what you want it to do and let it go. The only thing it can't do is anticipate complications, which is why it still needs a surgeon to hold its hand, but Stark Industries' medical division is working on that. Welcome to the future, Cap."

"Yeah, I'm sure it's great and will save lots of lives. But since this _is_ the future, why didn't you have some high tech security system that lets you know that this thing was being stolen?" asked Steve, leaning both elbows on the bar and looking at Tony.

"Pep, tell him we have some state of the art security footage of the ratbags that took our stuff," said Tony, taking another sip of his scotch. "I'm sure the police are all over it."

"Actually," said Pepper, and all eyes turned towards her. "We didn't get any useable security footage. For some reason it was all corrupted with static. I've got the tech department looking into how it happened."

Tony put his glass down on the bar slowly, his face taking on an expression of horrified realisation. Steve met his eyes and looked up to see Natasha had stopped what she was doing.

"Can we see the damaged footage?" asked Steve.

Pepper looked a little confused but nodded and started typing on her StarkPad. The three Avengers gathered around her without a word. The video that Pepper played them had a clear view of the item that had been stolen. It was large and clearly needed several men to lift it. A few seconds into the footage the static began, and it was a very familiar pattern. They could see the crate which had the robot inside it being moved and even the shapes of men doing it, but the static meant that it was impossible to make out features properly. There were also moments when the video cut out entirely, and after one of these the robot was simply gone.

"Clint's smoke monster?" asked Steve.

Tony was nodding. "It's too much of a coincidence for it not to be. And that's the exact same pattern of static and black outs that we saw on our cameras after Clint was attacked."

"It's not alone there, either," said Steve. "It definitely had help."

"This was two weeks ago?" asked Natasha.

Pepper nodded. "Pretty much the same day that Tony and I got back to New York."

"And Clint got here the day after that?" asked Natasha.

Tony nodded. "What are you thinking?"

"That Crossfire had an arrow through his eye and he'd probably have died without some really good medical attention," said Natasha.

"And you just told us that you saw Crossfire's boss eating dinner with the Maggia," said Steve. "Who are apparently interested in Chitauri biotech."

"Damn it. The Corvallo family stole my robot to patch up their assassin. I hate it when people take my stuff," said Tony. "I'm going to say that we should go ahead and kick their ass."

"Definitely. We can finish what Clint started and destroy any Chitauri biotech that they have," said Natasha. "But we can't do that until we have some hard evidence that Fury can bury them with or they'll just come back later with something else. We need evidence that they have Chitauri biotech."

"And we need to get it the right way," said Steve, who was well versed in Tony's approach to problems.

"Well then, we're going to a party," said Tony, with a smile. It was one of Tony's most dangerous smiles and it never gave Steve a good feeling about what was going to happen next.


	11. Chapter 11

About to Blink

AN: Argh, late again.

* * *

Clint didn't like medical establishments of any kind, even Tony's cushy, all-mod-cons, state-of-the-art Infirmary. If he ended up in one of them then clearly something had gone wrong or mistakes had been made. In his line of work, injury was an occupational hazard but he still regarded it as a failure on his part when it happened. He was used to being forced to see doctors when he'd broken something after a mission gone bad. He was less used to being summoned to see a doctor because his friends were worried about him. Okay, Bruce was also technically his doctor, and he'd willingly seen him about the Dengue Fever, but Natasha and Tony had colluded to make sure he made this appointment and that was purely because they were worried. He didn't like being worried over, he never felt like he was worth the energy. And he could take care of himself.

He couldn't deny that the constant temperature fluctuations were annoying though, and he was definitely not right yet, but that was expected after having Dengue Fever. In a few days he'd be back in the gym and training, getting back all the muscle mass that he'd lost from inactivity. He'd had worse patches of down time and been far more ill, this was a walk in the park in comparison to being in a coma for a week or Loki-induced meningitis. He was pretty certain that everyone was worried over nothing, but it was the path of least resistance to let Doctor Henderson check him out. At least if he did this then it would get the others off his back.

He walked into the Infirmary and to see Bruce already talking to Doctor Henderson, and his notes open on the desk between them.

"Hi," said Clint, feeling a little awkward.

"Hi," replied Bruce. "Do you want me to sit in or I can go and leave you with Doctor Henderson?"

Clint shrugged. He didn't want to appear needy or weak, but Bruce was his friend as well as his Doctor and he'd feel more secure if he stayed. "Er, I guess you should stay and hear whatever Doctor Henderson has to say."

Bruce nodded and Clint was grateful that he didn't ask him to clarify that he was certain.

"Take a seat on the bed, Clint," said Bruce, and Clint did as he was asked, pretending not to notice the equipment for taking blood samples that was lying ready to be used. He'd already resigned himself to doing duty as a pin cushion again.

"Agent Barton, I've had a look at your test results and there are definitely a few anomalies which indicate that this isn't as straight forward as it appeared. Doctor Banner correctly diagnosed Dengue Fever, but the continuing instances of fever and the pain you've been experiencing, suggest something more," said Henderson.

"But you don't have a clue what, do you?" asked Clint, bluntly.

"I have some ideas," said Henderson. "But I need to do some more tests to give us more information to work with. I'd like to take some more of your blood and I want to do an MRI. Once we have those results, we'll work out how to proceed from there."

Clint examined his hands for a moment, before looking at Bruce. He didn't even need to voice the question.

"I think this is a good idea, Clint," said Bruce. "The most likely thing is that you've picked up a wound infection. Sometimes they can fly under the radar, just manifesting as flu like symptoms and taking advantage of your body's immune system already being low. If that's the case then we'll be able to give you antibiotics and you'll be fine after a few days."

"You don't give people MRIs for wound infections," said Clint.

"The MRI is to rule out neurological complications and a few other things," said Henderson. "With your history of meningitis and brain injury, I want to be absolutely sure that we're not missing something there."

Clint felt a jolt of worry. He'd assumed that after Tony and Bruce had fixed the damage that Loki had done to his brain with his glow-stick of destiny, he wouldn't have to deal with more problems. Maybe he'd been wrong about that. Maybe it had all been too easy.

"If those tests don't give us any answers, which is pretty unlikely but could still happen, then I'd like to do a lumbar puncture. But not today. We'll rule out the most likely things first."

Clint didn't like the sound of lumbar puncture, but hopefully the other tests would show something and it wouldn't need to be done.

"Okay," said Clint. "Let's get this over with."

Henderson was a professional and Clint knew that he cared about his patients. There was a reason why Tony had picked him to be their on-call doctor. He let him take blood and then lead Clint through to the scanner room. Most medical facilities that had been built to cater for ten people maximum didn't include a MRI scanner, but this was Tony Stark's medical facility, so of course it came with an MRI scanner and almost any other piece of medical equipment that might be needed.

Tony's medical research department was currently putting the finishing touches to his latest super brain scanner that had saved Clint's life a few months ago. Tony had told him that he expected it to be in production soon, and would save even more lives. It sort of helped Clint to know that the scanner that he'd been the guinea pig for would help other people, so all the pain that Loki had caused him had at least had one good outcome. Clint thought that Tony had probably known that was how he'd feel about it too. He was occasionally strangely insightful about emotional matters, which made his contrasting normal insensitivity and lack of ability to express his own feelings all the more weird.

The MRI scanner that he was lying in now was a high end model, because Tony wouldn't have anything else, but it was just a normal scanner. Clint had changed into scrubs and Henderson had injected him with a contrast dye to make sure the MRI got the best image possible. Then he'd instructed him to lie still for the duration of the scan, and finally he'd given Clint a pair of ear plugs to block out the noise of the scanner at work.

Bruce and Doctor Henderson were sat in the control room, protected from the magnetism of the scanner. Clint closed his eyes and tried to relax as the bed moved into the tube of the scanner. The noise of the switching magnetic coils began. Clint disliked enclosed spaces and that added to the noise was making him a little uncomfortable. However, he was completely unprepared for the pain that hit him a few moments later.

For a second he couldn't breathe and then he was shivering from the wave of cold that swept over him and the lights around him seemed to dim. He curled up on his side against the pain, and felt the bed moving out from scanner. Bruce was there beside him, taking out his ear plugs and then helping him to sit up.

"Are you okay?" asked Bruce. "What happened?"

"No idea," ground out Clint.

"Claustrophobia?" asked Henderson.

Clint shook his head. "I don't like enclosed spaces but I can deal with them for long enough to be scanned. I'm not claustrophobic." If he'd been talking to Bruce alone he might have qualified that statement with a "very". But Bruce already knew that while small places were not Clint's favourite thing, he was totally capable of putting up with them when required.

"But you are cold," said Bruce, carefully reaching out to take Clint's pulse and making sure that he was being watched by his patient as he did so. "You aren't shivering because of a fever. Your skin is cold to the touch."

Clint shrugged. "I'm warming up again."

"Was it pain in your hand again?" asked Bruce, once again proving that he was smart enough to join the dots even when Clint gave him very little to go on.

Clint instinctively flexed his left hand, but shook his head. "No, it was everywhere this time. Then the lights seemed to dim and I couldn't breathe for a moment. I'm okay now though."

"The scanner just seemed to stop receiving images for a moment," said Doctor Henderson. "I've never seen an MRI malfunction like that before. I wonder if the two are linked."

"It would seem coincidental for them not to be," said Bruce. "But stranger things have happened."

"Well, I think we're done here in any case," said Doctor Henderson. "We'll need to get a technician to go over the MRI for faults before we can try again."

"Can you walk?" asked Bruce.

"I'm fine," said Clint, slightly irritated and then regretted snapping. "Okay, I'm a little cold, but I'm pretty sure I can make it to the Common Room couch under my own steam."

Bruce seemed to hesitate for just a moment. "Okay, but I'll walk you there."

"Again, Doc? People are going to start talking," quipped Clint, and was pleased to see a shy smile from Bruce.

"Let them. I'll stop accompanying you places when I can stop comparing your skin colour to the sheets in the Infirmary," said Bruce, with good humour. Clint wished that he was wrong about the paleness of his skin however.

Clint slid down from the scanner bed, making sure he was properly stable before letting go. He pretended that Bruce wasn't watching this, and Bruce apparently decided to let him and said nothing. He shivered again and folded his arms around his torso in an attempt to keep his heat in. He wished that he was wearing more than scrubs at the moment, the thin material wasn't helping to warm him up. He shuffled into the changing area and pulled on the long sleeved t-shirt and jeans that he'd been wearing earlier, and the shivering began to still a little.

When he and Bruce emerged into the Common Room a little later, he almost felt properly warm again but the occasional shiver reminded him that his body didn't agree. Tony was sat with a glass of scotch reading something on a StarkPad, which was unusual enough in broad daylight that Clint almost did a double take as he dropped down on the couch. Tony was normally in his lab listening to loud rock music about now.

He grabbed for the blanket that had been thrown over the back and left there without much fanfare, pulling it over his legs. They didn't usually leave blankets out on the couch, but Clint didn't usually have random temperature fluctuations plaguing him. No one had said a word about why it had been left there, but Clint could read the message loud and clear. Mother hens had nothing on the members of the Avengers Initiative when it came to looking after their archer. Still, he acknowledged that he felt wiped out and lounging on the couch was about all he was good for at the moment.

He could hear Natasha and Steve chatting in the kitchen, probably discussing what to have for dinner. He liked the Common Room and the way that they all passed through it, giving it a lived in feel. Despite its size, the room managed to feel cosy and he was comfortable here.

"So how did it go?" asked Tony, barely waiting for Clint to get settled.

"The usual," said Clint. "Took blood, did an MRI."

Bruce shot him a look, possibly trying to ascertain how much Clint was going to say, but Tony spotted it.

"What was that look for? He's not dying again, is he? Because that would just be rude, Barton, after everything that I went through to fix your brain the first time," said Tony. Clint could see that the humour was a little forced, so he decided to put Tony out of his misery.

"I'm fine," said Clint. "The consensus seems to be that I've got some kind of stealth wound infection which is messing with my body temperature."

"That look was definitely not about a wound infection," said Tony.

Clint sighed. "I had a kind of… uh… moment while they were scanning me."

"A moment?" asked Tony.

"Sudden pain, shortness of breath and vision artefacts," said Bruce, taking pity on Clint. "And he was cold again."

"Like when you dropped the mug?" asked Tony.

"Yeah, except this time it was my whole body rather than just my hand," said Clint.

"Could still be an infection," said Bruce. "But I know Henderson is considering Guillain-Barré syndrome."

"What's that?" asked Clint.

"It's a condition of the peripheral nervous system. The body's immune system starts attacking part of the nervous system. It's fairly rare but almost all case of it are preceded by a bacterial or viral infection, and it would explain the pain, so you'd fit the profile. It's why Henderson wanted to do a lumbar puncture if the latest tests come back negative," said Bruce.

"Awesome," said Clint, sarcastically.

"It's treatable and most people make a full recovery," said Bruce.

Tony downed his scotch. "I guess it could be worse then."

"Thanks, Tony, that makes me feel much better," said Clint. As he completed the sentence, he heard the distinct sound of a roll of thunder in the distance. His eyes met Tony's, and neither of them needed to say what they were both thinking.

"It can't be…" said Tony, but he was on his way to the window and Bruce was following.

"It's kind of the wrong time of year for thunderstorms," said Clint, from the couch. He was feeling too tired to get up just to watch a thunderstorm, but he might summon up the energy if it was what he thought it was.

"Jarvis, is there a God of Thunder coming our way? Or is that just an unusually fast moving storm head?"

"There is a high probability that Prince Thor is on his way to the Tower," said Jarvis.

Steve and Natasha stepped into the Common Room.

"What's going on?" asked Steve. "Did Jarvis just say that Thor's heading this way?"

Natasha just raised an eyebrow. "That's certainly unexpected."

"Nothing from SHIELD?" asked Clint, gathering his blanket around him and wearily pushing himself to his feet so that he could join everyone who was staring out through the windows.

Natasha shook her head. "Hill or Sitwell would have called in if they'd known."

The storm seemed to localise itself around the Tower and torrential rain beat down on the terrace and helipad. Lightning crackled as the God of Thunder landed with unexpected grace in the centre of the helipad. The rain just reminded Clint that he was still cold and he shivered under his blanket, pulling it closer around his shoulders.

"He sure knows how to make an entrance," said Bruce.

The storm stopped as quickly as it had started, the last of the rain falling to the ground and the rumbles of thunder dying away. As always, Thor was completely dry. Clint always assumed this was because the rain was afraid to fall on him in case it was never allowed to fall again if it annoyed him. Bruce was right, the God of Thunder was always impressive in his arrivals.

The group stepped out onto the helipad. Thor smiled at the assembled party, a broad, warm grin. His smile was returned by the others.

"It's good to see you, Thor," said Steve, holding out a hand. Thor clasped it in his usual warriors' grasp.

"And also you, my friends," said Thor. He went to Tony next and offered his arm once again, which was taken and gripped solidly by the inventor. Thor seemed to look into his eyes for a second with an appraising look as if he was making sure that Tony was well. The moment was brief and Clint wondered if the others picked up on it as well. Did Thor know what had been happening recently on Earth? He certainly seemed to have some idea that Tony wasn't completely right.

Thor offered his arm to Natasha and Bruce, who both grasped it in return. But when he came to Clint and the archer took the offered arm, he held it for a few seconds as he looked him up and down. Thor took in his pale complexion and noted the slight shivers that still ran through the archer's body.

"Are you still unwell, Eye of the Hawk?" asked Thor, with sincere concern. "The injuries that Loki inflicted have returned?"

"No, this is something else," replied Clint. "Don't worry, it's nothing serious. I just picked up a virus on a mission. I'll be fine in a few days."

Bruce made an unhappy noise in his throat at the understatement of Clint's words, but Thor nodded in comprehension. He gave Clint a pat on the shoulder and released his grip.

"I came as soon as I was able. The Nine Realms are in disarray and Father still has need of me at his side. Now that the Bifrost is open once more we can begin to restore order. But Heimdall has indicated that I am also needed here, so I will stay for as long as I can," said Thor.

"It's good to have you back, Pointbreak. Now, can we all go inside? I'm freezing my ass off out here," said Tony.

"We wouldn't want that," said Natasha, heading back into the Common Room.

The other Avengers trailed after her and Clint really wished that he wasn't quite so certain that Tony had only suggested it because he'd noticed his friend's shivering. He hated being treated like an invalid, even when he actually deserved it, and now that he was on the mend, he definitely didn't need it.

"Does this mean we're having pizza?" asked Bruce. "Or do we have to have a life threatening situation for team pizza?"

"We've had a few of those recently," said Clint. "We could call it retroactive."

"I don't know what life threatening situations you've been in, but I can't remember us facing anything really troublesome for a while," said Tony. The others just looked at him for a moment. "Oh, come on! You're going to try to tell me that the Serpent Society ever stood a chance against five sixths of the Avengers?"

"Four sixths," corrected Clint.

"Five," replied Natasha, Steve, Bruce and Tony in one voice.

"And now we're talking in unison," said Tony, with resignation. "I should never have let you people move into my Tower."

"I'd probably have lost an arm without your help," said Steve, looking at Clint.

"Kind of an exaggeration, Cap," said Clint.

"You didn't have those teeth sunk into your shoulder," said Steve.

"Then there are tales to be told?" asked Thor, hopefully.

"Damn right there are, big guy," said Tony. "Great, then it's settled. Pizza and war stories. I'll order."

* * *

Pizza arrived and was devoured in short order by the Avengers plus Pepper, despite it being a little early for dinner. Clint fell asleep on the couch sometime between Thor's explanation of who Heimdall was and Steve trying to find a language that Natasha didn't know how to order a beer in. Tony suspected that the sleeping was a good thing, although he knew Clint would be sad that he didn't get to see Thor's face when Bruce explained that the small brown things on the pizza (usually referred to as anchovies) had once been fish. This was the kind of quality conversation that you got when you put a Norse god in the same room as a supersoldier from WWII, a gamma radiation specialist and two deadly assassins, one of whom was currently sleeping through the entire thing. Tony loved every moment of it.

Thor seemed somewhat unwilling to say exactly what it was that Heimdall had seen that made him think that he was needed on Earth. That set off all kinds of alarm bells with Tony, but no one else seemed bothered by it, or if they were then they weren't letting it show. SHIELD had called in wondering if they had a God of Thunder with them and Natasha had confirmed that they did, but that it was basically a social call, so there was no need to panic. Tony hoped that she was right.

The rest of the evening passed fairly uneventfully and Clint woke up long enough for them to send him down to his own apartment to sleep. He still looked like crap, no matter how much bravado he attempted, in Tony's opinion. Natasha didn't follow him though, so he guessed that she'd decided he was well enough that guard duty wasn't required.

Eventually everyone else said goodnight too, so Tony headed down to his lab and spent the rest of the evening working on updating the bio-scanners in his most recently created suit, and finishing Pepper's armour. She would be down to chase him out of the lab at bed time, and he had Jarvis keeping her position in the Tower pinned to his screen so that he could just glance up to make sure she was okay at any moment. Tony felt a little embarrassed that he couldn't go five minutes without knowing Pepper's every move. It was weird, and stalker-ish behaviour, but it prevented the panic attacks so for now he was just going to go with it.

They'd managed a brief conversation in the kitchen earlier about the Corvallo party, which turned out to be that weekend, and Pepper had reminded him that they'd already agreed to attend a charity fundraiser for soldiers with Post-Traumatic Stress. It was one of the more recent, post-Loki charitable causes that he supported and it was almost entirely down to seeing Clint deal with the illness that he'd chosen it. He didn't want to blow them off, but on this occasion the Corvallo party was more important, and Pepper could still go on her own to the charity fundraiser. He'd already authorised her access to enough funds to make a good donation. She was also better at the schmoozing businessmen than he was.

Bruce wandered into the lab late in the evening, and sat down on the couch. The physicist said nothing, apparently working up to something. Tony continued working until the silence got too much for him. He turned around and just raised his eyebrows expectantly.

"Whilst I love an appreciative audience, silent contemplation of my work isn't usually your thing," said Tony.

"I ran your list of doctors that would perform the operation to remove the arc reactor past Henderson," said Bruce. "Did you know that one of them is under SHIELD surveillance?"

Tony stopped what he was doing at that. "Which one?"

"Doctor Tyler Cage," said Bruce.

Tony searched his memory for a moment for everything that he knew about that name. He came up with a collection of facts that he'd found out during his research.

"He's an eminent cardiothoracic surgeon working at the third ranked hospital for Cardiology in the entire country. I did a lot of research into those people. They weren't just the first nutcases that I could find who were willing to perform the operation," said Tony.

"I know," said Bruce. "But you missed something. He's marrying Verity Corvallo, daughter of Christiana Corvallo and sister to Alexander Corvallo, whose party Natasha just told me you're going to this weekend. He operated on Rex Corvallo, Verity and Alexander's father. I'm certain that you can work out how that went given that he isn't around anymore."

"Are you implying that he murdered someone?" asked Tony. "That can't be right… I checked his statistics."

"I'm implying that if you offered him enough money, he'd perform surgery and there would be a regrettable outcome. He's made sure that he's kept within acceptable levels of failure for a surgeon in his area. SHIELD think that he may only kill one patient every two years or so, but he's basically a Maggia hitman."

Tony could feel the blood draining from his face. "And maybe it would have been useful for Iron Man to die on an operating table…"

"Maybe," said Bruce. "You couldn't have known about his Maggia involvement. You didn't even know that they existed until Clint came back from Aqiria, but if you're going to do this idiotic thing that you have planned then you need to get SHIELD formally involved."

"Okay, so maybe my background checks left something to be desired…" said Tony.

"Natalie Rushman," said Bruce.

Tony gave him a disappointed look. "Really? You're going to throw that at me? Do you have any idea how deep her cover was? She'd actually spent time doing the things that it said on her CV."

"And other people can do the same," said Bruce. "You don't have to make a big thing of it, but tell Natasha and get her to do the background checks. She knows how these things work because she uses them herself. The rest of the list may be fine, but you've made enough enemies that there have got to be other people out there that would see this as an easy opportunity to get rid of you. You've gone out of your way to make the Tower safe and to ensure that Pepper has round the clock security. You've got to do that same for this operation."

Tony sighed. "Okay. I'll talk to Natasha."

"And we should plan to have the procedure done in the operating suite here. I don't care what any of your prospects say. If we're going to do this then we need to have it done where you can be protected, and we should probably talk to Clint about how we handle Security on the day of the operation," said Bruce.

Tony sat back a little on his stool. "Are you willingly helping me to set up this operation, Bruce?"

Bruce's long suffering eyes met Tony's. "Well it's either that, or I basically watch you kill yourself by making some very bad decisions."

"I resent that comment," said Tony. "One bad decision, it was _one_ bad decision."

"And that one might have killed you, so that's it. We're doing this as a team or you're not doing it at all and that means you need to tell the others. For starters they need to know to expect Iron Man down time for a few weeks. And you _still_ haven't told Pepper yet either," said Bruce, the sincere look in his eyes that Tony could never ignore.

"I'll do it after the party, but we need to focus on that first. Once that's done, I'll sit everyone down and go through it all. Does that meet with your approval, Doctor Banner?"

"It'll do for now," said Bruce, and he left Tony to take in just how close he'd been to employing a Maggia hitman as his surgeon.


	12. Chapter 12

About to Blink

AN: I'm not dead, I'm just finding life a bit busy at the moment. Updates will probably be slow for a little while. Many apologies to all my readers, reviewers and followers, and I'll try to get things up as quickly as I can.

AN2: Small warning for Tony swearing at the end of this chapter.

* * *

Bruce and Tony spent almost the entirety of the two days leading up to the Corvallo party continuing their research into Chitauri biology and the Eaglestar experiments. It was hard and difficult work with only slow progress being made. Tony's near constant complaining that biology was messy stuff and he'd rather have a machine to poke at probably wasn't helping things to go faster either. What they did find unsettled them both, and made them realise the kind of problem that they might well be facing if the Corvallo family were continuing where Eaglestar left off.

They found time to update Thor on their Chitauri problems with the hope that he could offer some insight. Whilst Thor wasn't stupid by any means, he wasn't a scientist either and Bruce didn't hold it against him that he couldn't offer any real help. He did let slip that perhaps the Chitauri tampering might have something to do with why Heimdall had felt his presence was needed on Earth. After that he'd wandered off and spent his time sparring in the gym with Steve and Natasha, or brooding on the terrace. Occasionally Clint would join the Asgardian and Bruce had no idea what they talked about but it seemed to cheer both of them up a little.

Although Bruce had agreed to Tony's plan to go to the Corvallo party, he wasn't totally sold on it for a number of reasons. Firstly there was the impossibility of keeping anything that happened in the Tower from Clint, and Bruce couldn't think of anyone other than Natasha who was more capable of extracting information from people than Clint. The archer was incredibly good at moving around almost completely silently and making himself near invisible in any room he was in. If Clint didn't want to be found, only asking Jarvis his whereabouts would get you anywhere, and that was assuming Clint hadn't told Jarvis to keep his location secret. The chances of a conversation being overheard were unacceptably high.

But Clint seemed preoccupied, and although getting stronger, still wasn't exactly well. Bruce had grudgingly let him resume some limited archery and a bit of light physical exercise, which appeared to be keeping him occupied when he wasn't sleeping, or brooding on the terrace with Thor.

It looked like they were going to get away with not telling him what was going on. Even their elicit com link tests and Natasha scoping out places for Steve to park so that he was in easy reach of the party if anything went wrong, went unnoticed. Bruce should have known at that point that fate was against him.

The evening of the party arrived uneventfully and Steve, Thor, Clint and Bruce were sat in the Common Room discussing their entertainment options for the evening. Steve wasn't going to be staying, but he needed to make Clint think that he had no plans to leave. Thor hadn't been in the original plan, and they'd been in two minds whether to tell him but had decided that Bruce might need back-up when it came to babysitting their archer. If Thor was needed then Steve would call and he'd use Mjollnir to get to the party location. Although currently the Asgardian was in his "Earth attire" so Bruce would be interested to see if he stopped to put on his armour first and how long it took.

Pepper had "reminded" Tony earlier in the day that he was supposed to be attending the fundraiser for soldiers suffering from PTSD that evening. She'd made sure Clint was within earshot when she did it and Tony had made the usual noises about how he'd remembered really and didn't need to be reminded. This wasn't anything unusual as far as Clint was concerned as the occasional party was a well-known part of Tony's life, as was Pepper having to remind him about stuff. So they were now busy getting ready.

Natasha walked into the Common Room exactly on cue.

"SHIELD just called," said Natasha. "They want Steve and I to go in. They've got a potential situation brewing."

Steve nodded. "Okay, just let me get my jacket. I'll meet you downstairs." Steve headed for the stairs, which would be slightly quicker than taking the elevator down the couple of floors to his appartment.

"Anything I should be aware of?" asked Clint.

Natasha shook her head. "Sick leave, remember? You'll be back on active duty next week so you might as well enjoy the downtime."

"I've had enough downtime," grumbled Clint.

"I know, but at least you've got time to watch some films," said Natasha.

"Actually I thought we might give Game of Thrones a try," said Clint. "So I suppose there are up sides to sick leave. Be careful out there."

"I always am," said Natasha and headed for the returning elevator.

Bruce gave her a small wave of his hand, and Thor wished her well. Natasha gave him a smile as the doors closed behind her.

"I need popcorn," said Clint. "Popcorn anyone?"

"Aye," said Thor. "We will certainly require snacks for our marathon of television watching."

Tony and Pepper popped in a few moments later. Pepper was looking ravishing in a dark blue evening dress, with matching shoes and bag, that probably cost more than Bruce used to earn in a year. Tony was in a sophisticated black suit, complete with bow tie and waistcoat. Bruce happened to know that this was a designer outfit that had been tailor made for him, and included a lining which was made of a specially printed patterned silk. The pattern showed Iron Man in flight, blasting something with one of his repulsors. It didn't get much more Tony Stark than this.

They said their goodbyes and headed out together. Clint hadn't even batted an eyelid at the proceedings, which had made Bruce quite happy. The three remaining Avengers settled in to watch Game of Thrones, passing the popcorn bowl amicably between them.

"I find the continued stupidity of Eddard Stark to be an annoyance," declared Thor. "Is he not supposed to be the hero of this story?"

"Not exactly. There isn't really a hero," said Bruce. "He's definitely not great at politics."

"Got to wonder why he decided to take Arya with him to King's Landing," added Clint "And if I had a daughter in that place, I'd be teaching her more than just fencing. I'd also have put an arrow through Joffrey's skull by now."

The episode finished, and the bowl of popcorn was empty. Bruce picked it up and headed towards the kitchen. "I'll get us some more and then we can start the next episode."

"I require another beverage," said Thor. "I will accompany you."

"Okay," said Clint. "Grab a beer for me while you're in there, assuming Doctor Banner will allow it."

"I don't think one will hurt," said Bruce, and he and Thor headed for the kitchen.

Clint grinned. "Jarvis, put the news channel on until Bruce and Thor get back, please."

"Yes, sir," said Jarvis.

Bruce probably should have realised that this could lead to trouble but it didn't occur to him at that moment. It was only when he returned to the room, popcorn in hand, and saw Clint shift forwards on the couch as if he'd suddenly seen something very interesting that it occurred to him. He realised a second too late why when he heard a reporter ask a question:

"Miss Potts, this is an important charity for you and Mr Stark?"

"Yes, absolutely. We used to work in the defence industry and have a number of good friends who are serving in our country's military. We wanted to draw attention to the serious effects that PTSD can have on returning soldiers and their families," said Pepper. "It's not a popular cause, but it's one that Tony believes needs highlighting."

"I can't help but notice that Tony isn't with you tonight. Where is he?"

"He was invited to a good friend's birthday party, so we decided to split our attendance tonight. He really wanted to be here, but I hope I'm a good enough substitute," said Pepper. She smiled at her self-deprecation and the reporter agreed that she was a fantastic substitute.

"Bruce, where's Tony?" asked Clint. "I thought he and Pepper were going to the same party."

Bruce just froze, the bowl clutched in his hands. He really would make a terrible spy, he was so hopeless at lying or even coming up with a plausible story.

"Bruce, what's going on?" said Clint, getting to his feet and approaching Bruce. "What are they up to?"

"Er, there was a party for Alexander Corvallo's birthday tonight and Tony was invited," said Bruce, nervously.

Clint pulled out his phone, pressed a speed dial button. "This is Hawkeye, agent number 279401, the word of the day is "constructive". Put me through to the Black Widow."

There was silence for a moment as he listened to what the person on the other end was saying. "For how long is her no contact order in place?" Another pause. "And she wasn't called in for a briefing this evening?" Pause. Bruce was finding this agonising.

"Okay, thanks," said Clint and ended the call. "Natasha isn't at Headquarters and there was no mission briefing." He looked directly at Bruce. "So, Tony went to the Corvallo party with Natasha and took Steve for backup?" It was really more a statement than a question.

Bruce just gave a nod in confirmation. "Clint, I'm sorry we didn't tell you, it was just…"

"I don't want to hear it," said Clint sharply. "Give me the address. I'm going down there. If something goes wrong then they'll need more than just Steve backing them up. Didn't they listen to what I said?"

"You're on sick leave," said Bruce. "You're not supposed to be going anywhere."

Thor chose that moment to wander back from the kitchen, a bottle of beer in each hand. "Is there a problem, my friends?"

"Yes," said Clint. "You all lied to me. So I'm going to get suited up and then you're going to tell me where I can find Steve, Natasha and Tony."

Clint stormed off and Bruce did some deep breathing as he returned the popcorn to the kitchen, untouched. Bruce was well aware that Thor was following cautiously behind him.

"What should we do?" asked Thor. "I am uneasy with continuing to keep information from our friend now that he is aware of the situation."

"Yeah, me too," said Bruce. "I guess we'll just have to tell him the truth and hope for the best."

* * *

Steve was having a fairly dull evening. He'd actually have rather stayed in and watched whatever television show Clint had planned for the others. Instead he was sat in a one of Tony's fleet of purposefully nondescript town cars, which the billionaire had specifically picked to be inconspicuous but still ridiculously luxurious. At least he had plenty of leg room, but listening to Tony and Natasha make small talk with their fellow party goers was less than exciting. He also had a video feed to watch from two tiny cameras that they each had attached to their clothes in unobtrusive locations.

"I've got Davis Harmon," said Natasha, her voice low. "I'm going to try to make contact."

"Acknowledged," said Steve.

"Why don't I go and get us some more drinks, while you see if you can catch up with some of our old friends," said Tony, louder and at a volume that anyone could hear if they were standing close enough. This gave Natasha a legitimate reason to be mingling.

Tony was apparently a natural at playing spies, which Steve would never have guessed. He was moving across the floor to the bar, whilst Natasha headed for Harmon.

"Cap," whispered Tony. "I've got Crossfire in view and he doesn't seem to be here for the champagne. He's noticed Natasha heading for Harmon."

"Okay, keep him in sight, but don't approach," said Steve.

Steve nearly jumped out of his skin as someone knocked on the car window. He turned his head to see Clint standing there in his full battle gear, although he'd added a jacket in deference to the cold weather. Clint walked around the car and got into the passenger side.

"Hey, Cap, how's it going?" asked Clint.

"Hawkeye, you're not supposed to be here," said Steve.

"Did you say "Hawkeye"?" asked Tony, over his com. "Uh, no, he needs to go home now."

"I know that, Tony," said Steve. He turned back to Clint. "Did you sneak out or are Bruce and Thor on their way too?"

A second knock on the window answered his own question. Bruce opened the door to the backseat and climbed in, whilst Thor took the other side, pulling his cloak in behind him.

"Good job, guys," said Steve, looking at the occupants of the back seat. Because this was one of Tony's cars, there was enough room for Thor and Bruce to sit in the back without being too cramped. Bruce was looking rather sheepish, but Thor looked like he was about to argue.

"It wasn't their fault," said Clint, before Thor could say anything. "Some reporter was at the fundraiser and I happened to turn on the news just as she decided to interview Pepper. Tony was nowhere in sight, so I knew you were up to something, especially when I called SHIELD and Natasha wasn't there."

"You still shouldn't be here," said Steve.

"The hell I shouldn't," said Clint. "This was my mission. I'm going to see it through. And I'm not going to sit on the bench just because I caught some stupid tropical disease that I'm almost over anyway." Bruce opened his mouth to say something and Clint just gave him an annoyed look. Bruce shut his mouth again.

"You shouldn't have lied to me," added Clint.

"We lied because we knew this is what you'd do if we told you the truth," said Steve.

"He makes a good point, my friend," said Thor.

"The half of the conversation that I can hear sounds very interesting," said Tony. "Any chance you get the rest of them to put their coms in so that I can hear what the hell is going on. Or maybe you we could all pay attention to the fact that Natasha's having an even more interesting conversation with Davis Harmon."

"Sorry, Tony," said Steve. He pulled up a map of the building which showed the exit and entry points. "Okay, put your coms in. Hawkeye get yourself up to the roof. That's Natasha and Tony's exit if things look like they're going sour, and it needs to be kept clear. If they need backup, it'll be good to have another in as well. Thor, cover the rear exit. Stay out of sight until you're needed. Bruce, you can help me monitor the video feeds, but if this goes sideways, you should stay in the car and coordinate from here while I go in the front."

"Got it," said Bruce.

"Thor, do you giving me a lift?" said Clint, putting his com into his ear. "Otherwise, it's a long climb up that fire escape."

Thor gave Clint a nod of acknowledgement and the two of them exited the car and shot into the sky.

"Iron Man, Black Widow, acknowledge if you got all that," said Steve.

Steve could hear that Tony was at the bar now. "Yes, got it. Christiana! How nice to see you again," said Tony, with only a touch of forced bravado.

"Yes, I completely understand," said Natasha, with a slight emphasis that only she would have picked up on. She was in the middle of a conversation with Davis Harmon about how he was glad that Stark Industries had pulled out of the weapons trade, and she couldn't overtly say anything.

"I should be inside with them," said Clint, over the com link.

"Hold your position," said Steve. "They're doing just fine. Radio silence, unless you have something to report, Hawkeye."

"Yes, sir," came the annoyed retort from the archer.

"Should have stayed home, Banner," muttered Bruce, from the seat beside him. "But no, you just had to come too."

Steve could sympathise. The Avengers worked well as a team, but they were each strong personalities and there were days when it just wasn't going to come together. Lying to Clint probably hadn't been a very good start, but it had seemed like the best course of action earlier in the day when Clint had been snoozing on the couch.

Natasha was concluding her conversation and working her way towards the areas of the building that they'd identified earlier as worthy of further investigation. She needed to make her way upstairs and towards the rooms that Christiana Corvallo used as an office. Tony was keeping Christiana Corvallo busy and a huge cake was being wheeled out so that Alexander Corvallo could cut it. Everything was in position. Steve watched as Natasha slipped out of the main room and headed down a corridor, then up the stairs. She took out a set of lock picks, which given the dress she was wearing, Steve wasn't sure he wanted to know where she'd been keeping them.

"This is Black Widow, I'm entering the study now," said the spy. "There's a computer. Give me a minute and I should be able to crack it. Hopefully it'll have what we need on it."

There were a few moments of quiet, punctuated by the tinny sounds of Natasha typing quickly on a keyboard.

"Widow, you've got Crossfire coming your way," said Tony.

Steve was suddenly alert. Tony had turned so that his camera showed the back of the mercenary heading towards the corridor that Natasha had just walked down.

"Tony, can you keep an eye on him and distract him if necessary?" said Steve.

Tony was already moving across the floor as Steve asked. "I'll give it my best shot," replied Tony, "but this isn't exactly my main area of expertise. Now if he was a she, things might be different."

Steve watched as Tony added a slight stagger to his step, and slurred his way towards Crossfire. He was suddenly the perfect picture of a drunken man. He bumped into the wall just behind Crossfire and the mercenary turned.

"Awwe," slurred Tony. "I am so, so, so very sorry."

"You're not supposed to be back here," said Crossfire.

"Really? I thought the bathroom was back here. No?" asked Tony. The conversation continued in this vein for several minutes.

"Widow, you need to get out of there," said Steve.

"Captain, we have another problem," said Natasha. Steve could see that she was looking at something on the computer screen, but the resolution on the cameras wasn't quite good enough for him to see what. "I'm looking at security screen. Someone in this building is scanning radio frequencies. It's just a matter of time until they hit ours, they may already have it."

"Get as much as you can and get out of there," said Steve.

"O… wi… getting… Damn it, Clint's sm…. Monst…" said Natasha.

Steve got a glimpse of something smoky descending through the vents, and then the video feed was cutting in and out.

"Black Widow?" asked Steve. "Come in, if you can hear me. Damn it. Hawkeye, I think the Widow just met your smoke monster friend, clear the stairwell for our team. I hope you brought your adamantium arrows."

"I did. On my way," said Hawkeye.

"Tony, you cover is about to be blown," continued Steve. "Get away from Crossfire and get to the roof. You might want to put on the suit. I'm coming in the back with Thor. Bruce, you've got ops so keep your eyes peeled and tell me what's going on."

Bruce gave him a nod and Steve was out of the car, heading for the back of the building in a few seconds. This was really not how he'd hoped this operation was going to go.

* * *

Natasha was faced with a gaseous black form. She grabbed the USB stick that she'd been using to download the files onto, pushing it into a concealed pocket as she watched the thing morph into a shape that was closer to that of a man. But the form was momentary and then it was swirling into a storm aimed straight at her. She dodged left, pulling out a dagger from a thigh holster as she did so. This was something special that Tony had made for her and presented her with that morning. The momentum of the ashen cloud carried it past her to where she had been standing, but it turned quickly and was on her in seconds. She was backed against the wall and the cloud surrounded her face, suffocating her attempts to breathe.

She slashed out with the dagger, unable to free herself from the choking cloud, and the creature screeched with pain. It appeared that Tony had been right, adamantium could hurt it. Unfortunately the wound didn't appear to be permanent, since the creature was coalescing back around the long slice that she'd made. There also wasn't any sign of blood, but she didn't know if it was even possible for the thing to bleed. She lashed out again and this time Smoke went backwards, giving her enough room to move towards the door.

She coughed to clear her throat of the disturbingly inky vapours that had been in her nose and throat. The creature became man shaped again and ran at her. This was a mistake on its part as she simply aimed a powerful kick at its middle, sending the thing backwards into the desk where it dissolved again into smoke. Her high heels and long dress made the manoeuvre more tricky than usual, but this wasn't her first fight in evening wear. She took the opportunity to wrench open the door and dive into the hallway, where she was confronted by Crossfire, who had Tony pressed against the wall.

The mercenary was distracted by her sudden arrival, and Tony, who had clearly been paying attention to his training, punched him in the face. He followed through with a kick to Crossfire's midsection. Crossfire hadn't been expecting either and his grip on Tony loosened and then failed.

Natasha heard the mumbled "hit me, J," from Tony and then pieces of his latest suit were flying through the nearest window, sending broken glass flying into the corridor. Crossfire was pulling a gun whilst Tony's armour was swarming and assembling around him, clicking into place.

"Swap you," said Natasha, indicating the swirling smoke creature that had just emerged into the corridor.

Iron Man looked at her and she could imagine Tony smirking inside the helmet. "Deal."

Natasha moved down the corridor towards Crossfire and Iron Man took her place, ready to confront the smoke monster. The two stood back to back now.

"Why didn't we just do it this way in the first place?" asked Tony, firing a burst of adamantium tipped bullets at the smoke monster.

"Because they'll never invite us to one of their parties again," said Natasha, taking her gun out from the holster strapped to her thigh. It had been invisible under the dark green satin of her evening dress due to its careful positioning, and the fact that she'd chosen one of her smaller weapons for tonight's mission. She fired twice at Crossfire, and ducked down, twisting so that Iron Man's legs gave her cover as her enemy returned fire. The mercenary had tucked himself into a doorway that gave him reasonable protection from her bullets, which was thoroughly frustrating.

"Damn it," said Tony, "we've got goons incoming. I think it might be time to make our exit, otherwise this could get very messy."

Natasha could hear the feet of more men approaching, as Tony finished his sentence. Crossfire was backing up a little to give his reinforcements room to fire too.

"Yeah," said Natasha. "I definitely think we need to thank our hosts and leave."

Tony fired again at the smoke monster. He was keeping it from being able to reconstitute itself and attack them, which was useful until Tony stopped firing.

"That's the last of the adamantium tipped shells," he informed her. "Next time I'm going to have to bring a few more, but adamantium's expensive stuff. You don't think we could recover those bullets do you?"

"No," said Natasha, firmly.

She watched as Crossfire took careful aim at the back of Tony's neck and fired. Tony's exclamation of surprise and then loud swearing let her know that Crossfire had hit something important. However, the mercenary found himself disarmed and unable to fire again, because there was now an arrow through his gun. Natasha glanced around to see Clint standing at the other end of the corridor.

"I haven't got a better shot on Crossfire," said Clint, as he proceeded to nock two more arrows and take down two of the goons.

"Good enough," said Tony. "I don't wish to throw a spanner in our plans or lack of them, but I just lost my connection to Jarvis - which is going to make my armour a bitch to handle."

"Awesome," replied Clint. "Can you limp up to the roof, tin man?"

"I can still fly if I need to, it just might not be pretty," said Tony, with a little indignation. "Come on, this is me. I'm hurt that you'd think I'd make something that didn't include contingency plans for every possible outcome."

"Less chat more movement," said Natasha as she edged towards Clint. Smoke was reforming and she didn't want to be around when it coalesced enough to attack again.

"Bl… W…" came Steve's voice over her radio. "W… can't get to you. Can… y… roof?"

"Cap, you're breaking up. I think you said that we should get ourselves out to the roof," Natasha. "We're on it already."

Tony plodded towards Clint too. There was definitely less of a spring in his step than was usual and he wasn't moving as quickly as he could be. Clint ducked back around the corner as Natasha joined him and he handed her another pistol. Meanwhile Crossfire grabbed a weapon from one of the goons behind him. Iron Man was doing a good job of creating a barrier between them and the bullets. Smoke was still having trouble reforming and Natasha hoped that it stayed that way.

They made it to the stairs, firing back at their enemies as they went. Clint and Natasha stayed behind Iron Man, as Tony backed up the steps one at a time to make sure he was giving his teammates cover. They were about halfway up when the smoke monster reappeared and surged towards them.

"Not again," said Clint. "I'm not a fan of reruns."

Natasha saw his fingers tap out a code on his bow for a new type of arrow. He pulled it from his quiver, nocked it and sent it sailing through the main mass of the creature. It was enough to make it pause for a moment and gave them enough time to make it out onto the roof of the building. The Corvallo New York residence had pitched skylights that ran the length of the building. They made for poor, but at least some, cover and an interesting obstacle course for team members without the power of flight.

Unfortunately Clint's arrow wasn't enough to stall Smoke for long. The smoke monster regrouped and aimed the bulk of its mass at Clint. Probable because he was the one who'd attacked it most recently. The archer went down on the ground, and more goons were stepping up behind Smoke, followed by Crossfire. Clint rolled to his feet, a move which took him further from the fire escape that was their best exit from the roof, and Natasha and Tony.

"We could use some weather," shouted Clint. "Preferably the windy kind. That's how I dealt with him before."

"My coms are down," said Natasha, "Tony, can you make it down to Thor?"

"Yeah, on it," said Tony, firing a few parting shots at the goons before he took off towards Thor and Captain America.

Natasha could see that Clint was being forced toward the opposite edge of the roof by superior forces. Normally he'd be able to deal with even these odds easily, but she could see how tired he looked. He wasn't drawing his bow with quite the same fluidity that she usually saw. She had to do something. She threw her dagger at Smoke and was rewarded with a direct hit. The gaseous being turned back towards her, leaving Clint with only normal men to deal with.

"You called for a storm," came a shout, as Thor landed a few feet away, knocking down several bad guys as he did so.

He raised Mjolnir to the sky and lightning crackled. The wind rose until it was so strong that Natasha had to brace herself against it. Smoke was instantly whipped away by the gale, blown into the distance. The rest of the goons were also being blown around, but it didn't seem to be deterring Crossfire who was still intent on reaching Clint. The mercenary was crouched down on the ground and crawling towards Clint. The wind was considerably lessened at ground height, and he was making good progress towards her favourite archer. His arrows would be useless in this kind of weather.

"Clint!" she shouted, but her words were carried away by the wind. She turned her attention to Thor and indicated for him to stop. Thor nodded and lowered Mjollnir. The wind instantly stilled and the lightning withdrew back into its clouds.

It was at that moment that Clint shouted "grenade!" and Thor grabbed Natasha. She could see Clint nock his grappling arrow and fire it as he jumped from the side of the building. It lodged and the line played out, as Thor shot into the air with an arm around her waist. The air was knocked from her as the God of Thunder took an arcing trajectory towards where Steve and Tony were waiting on the ground.

She watched Clint fall and then come to the end of his line with an abrupt stop. He was still several stories above the ground. The grenade on the roof exploded and it must have been close to Clint's arrow anchoring him to the roof, because suddenly he was falling again. Tony was in the air, but his flight was erratic, and he couldn't possibly get to Clint before he hit the ground. Everything had developed a horribly inevitable slow motion effect. She was about to witness the almost certain death of her best friend and partner as he hit the ground at high speed.

Then there was a pinpoint of light that seemed to expand to cover Clint and suddenly he was gone. He was no longer falling to the ground and Tony's attempt to catch him passed through thin air.

"What the fuck?" she heard Tony ask. The coms appeared to be working again now that Smoke was no longer in the area.

Thor landed beside Steve and set Natasha down gently. She was running towards where Clint should have landed before she even knew what she was doing. Then her com came to life again.

"Uh, guys," said a familiar voice from behind her. "What just happened?"

She turned around to see Clint standing, shivering, across the road from the Corvallo building. She really wished that she had an answer for him.


End file.
